


A Man Among Dragons

by ClioSelene



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:40:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 75,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24980107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClioSelene/pseuds/ClioSelene
Summary: Yue-lung and Sing after the main manga story. No Ash/Eiji here.
Relationships: Blanca & Lee Yut-Lung, Lee Yut-Lung/Sing Soo-Ling
Comments: 92
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had that firm resolve to write nothing this year, but Yue turned my head, and despite my finding Banana Fish to be a very mediocre and sometimes even very bad anime. The truth is that Ash and Eiji left me with a trauma, and the ending was saved only by Yue and Sing staying alive and being able to find their happiness.
> 
> Even though the characters certainly deserve it, I don't feel well enough to write another 500-pages-long novel (see my last One Piece story), so I decided on another form. This text is more like a collection of scenes than long episodes, and it will probably contain less of thought process than my other texts. In other words, I want that the creative process is more 'light, easy and pleasant' than painful and stressful.
> 
> Unfortunately, mafia and gangsterism are not my cup of cake (I was 13 when I wrote my previous story with criminal elements), and thus I plan to limit the external circumstances to minimum and focus solely on the psyche and relationship(s) of the main character.
> 
> I write Yue-lung this way because I just can't get used to that 'Yut' thing. It's probably because I'm an audile. If someone doesn't like it, then I'm sorry.
> 
> The name of the story is a paraphrase of the Chinese proverb 'A dragon among men', describing an exceptional, unmatched talent. The working-title was 'How to Save Your Dragon', but it had to be discarded, for obvious reason xD Ah, and I mention that this is a translation from Polish original, but this time I'm going to translate and publish the new chapters as soon as I have them written, short as they are.
> 
> This is set in manga timeline, 80's, so no mobile phones.
> 
> I hope that you will enjoy reading the story, and I'll be happy to receive some comments from you! ^^

**Chapter 1**

It takes a week before Yue-lung is ready to see Sing again. Actually, 'ready' isn't the right word; it is simply that the memory of their previous conversation no longer makes him feel angry (or mortified, depending on his mood). The worst is that Sing figured his motives out so easily, reading him like a book, even though Yue-lung hardly gave him any opportunity to do so; no, he didn't even admit his motives to himself. Yet, Sing yelled it into his face: 'It was jealousy! You couldn't stand it that Ash had someone he really trusted and cared about! It killed you that Ash found something you couldn't have yourself, so you tried to destroy it!', and there was no turning back. Yue-lung knew well that Sing was right, so he didn't even deny it.

Still, it is a hard blow to someone who's always considered himself to be a good actor, capable of deceiving others. During that week, Yue-lung swings between the feeling it would be better if Sing had left all that unspoken, and the opposite: it is better he hadn't. (The thought Sing - or anyone! - could have guessed something and remained silent about it, is unbearable). And during that week, Yue-lung also oscillates between the decision to never again see that insolent brat and the commonsense approach that their cooperation is inevitable.

Finally, his rage subsides, and the balance point shifts towards the cold, logic view. In fact, he is to blame himself for having shown Sing his weakness - he burst out crying in his presence! - and shouldn't excuse it with alcohol he drunk. The best he can do is to forget about that terribly embarrassing situation and never recall it again, and instead focus on the goals he and Sing had. It is somewhat comforting that Sing still wants to cooperate with him, despite everything, but, of course, it is only because he needs Yue-lung in order to bring the town under control again. Sing has no reason to get friendly with him, especially after Yue-lung used his people like he did.

Yue-lung is perfectly fine with this - he got used to hating and being hated - but for some reason his mind goes back to the man - the only man - who treated him with some care. In the world where people stay with the son of the Lee family only because they either fear him or want something from him, Sergei... _Blanca_ was a nice change... or just the exception proving the rule. He appeared and then quickly vanished, no matter how Yue-lung tried to keep him. Even now, he wishes to have him by his side, and despite Blanca having chosen Ash, in the end - or maybe exactly because of that? After all, the main reason he recruited Blanca was the desire to take him from Ash... right?

However, thinking of Blanca is pointless as Blanca left. And although Yue-lung would do anything to bring him back, he can only accept the man's decision. He is unable to keep people by his side; he never could do that. But the one who stayed is Sing, who currently needs Yue-lung's help to bring order in the Chinatown. The accusation that it is their conflict that caused the situation they are in - with other parties rampaging in their territory - is somewhat legitimate, although Yue-lung doesn't intend to feel guilty about it. Still, after the first days spent with the feeling he doesn't care and all he wishes is to fall asleep and never wake up again, he starts to realize he actually _could_ do it. He has people, he has resources; above all, he has his brains to carry it out. Since he became the head of the syndicate already - a side-effect of his revenge - he could put it to use, even if it requires some effort of him. At least, he will have some goal to focus on, even for a short while. As for Sing, who is pretty bright himself, he could prove a nice partner in reaching that goal. Their cooperation shouldn't end in a disaster.

After a week, when he informs Sing he wishes to see him, it can't be said that he is enthusiastic, but at least he stopped feeling sorry for himself and he no longer intends to do it, not in other's presence anyway. No crying, no shouting, no nothing. He is a descendant of the family that has ruled over the Chinese underworld for generations. He is the head of the Chinese mafia in US, and he gained his position with his own effort: his own strength and intelligence. He is someone to reckon with, and it's the only way others should view him. Even if Sing could saw the glimpse of his inner self, it doesn't mean Yue-lung plans to keep showing his that less perfect side of himself.

That day Sing surprised him - appearing suddenly in his place when Yue-lung had a bad moment - but it's not going to happen again. Today, he carefully prepares himself for their meeting, with physical preparation being as important as psychological. For the first time in many days, he dresses up and does his hair; elaborated outward appearance reinforces him like an armour. He receives Sing gracefully - as if their conversation from the week before had never happened - relieved to notice that the sight of the teenager doesn't arouse any animosity in him. He purposely offers no alcohol; tea will do. For a while, they just sit silently in the living-room. Is it just him or does Sing really appear nervous? He is sitting at the edge of the chair with a cup in his hand and his eyes fixed on it, only occasionally glancing around the room.

And yet it is him to start the conversation, finally raising his head and piercing Yue-lung with his gaze. "I thought you wouldn't want to see me again," he says straight, just like he uses to, and Yue-lung feels those words fill him with both satisfaction and relief.

"Let's not go there," he answers in a lofty manner, making it understand that their previous meeting was completely unimportant. In fact, he would do anything to avoid talking about it, so Sing's confusion accommodates him.

Sing only nods, then empties his cup and puts it on the table. He opens his mouth, but this time Yue-lung is faster. "I want to hear your plan. How do you intend to put the Chinatown under control and what do you need from me?" he asks, although he actually knows the answer. Money, guns and men, maybe some information and connections, too. This is what the Lee family, currently comprising Yue-lung alone, can provide the gang with.

"Not _I_ , only _we_ ," Sing corrects, and there is no longer any hesitation on his face. Before Yue-lung manages to point out it is all the same, Sing adds, "Don't fancy I'm going to do all work and you only provide me with the means."

Surprised, Yue-lung raises his eyebrows. "We never discussed that," he says, wondering if he will like it what will follow.

"That's why we discuss it now," Sing replies at once. "If you ask about the plan itself, it's quite simple and I can summarize it in two minutes. But there are much more important things to take care of."

Yue-lung says nothing, not even asks anything, which Sings takes as an encouragement to go on. "You realize that, first of all, we have to strengthen your position, don't you? Even if my guys go out on the streets with guns, nobody's going to give a shit about us as long as it isn't obvious that the Lees back us. And when I say 'the Lees' I mean power." This time he leaves unspoken that the current situation wouldn't have happened if Yue-lung had taken care of what belongs to the head of the Lee family: leading the mafia instead of engaging all resources in his private business.

His words are sensible, so Yue-lung nods. "I get it," he replies simply. "I'll take ca-"

"First, you must quit wearing dresses and make-up," Sing interrupts him, as if his previous statement was just a beginning. "And, in general, you must start acting like a guy. Only then people will treat you seriously."

It takes a longer while before Yue-lung is able to recover from the shock or just believe he really heard it. In the meantime, Sing made himself more comfortable on the chair, crossed his legs and folded his arms; he clearly turned more confident. He is even staring boldly at Yue-lung, even though he seemed abashed just a moment ago. Give them a finger, and they'll take the whole hand...

"That is your genial plan?" Yue-lung asks in annoyance. "I expected better of you. What does my appearance have to do with anything?!"

"I just told you," Sing snaps back at him. "Nobody's going to take you seriously if you look like a girl. At least outside. You can wear whatever you want at home, but in public you should wear a suit. Even if you're a weak crybaby, our enemies shouldn't know about it. No, they _mustn't_ know about it."

Yue-lung starts to feel angry, but then he remembers that he revealed himself as a 'weak crybaby' the last time, so he tries to contain himself. After all, he promised himself to remain calm. "What's wrong with wearing the traditional clothes?" he asks. "The Arabians wear 'dresses', too."

"Yeah, but maybe you noticed none of them looks like a pretty girl," Sing points out. "They usually grow beards and generally looks very manly."

"I'm not cutting my hair," Yue-lung declares defensively, although his statement isn't entirely logical.

Sing gives him a stupefied look. "I didn't say anything about your hair," he replies somewhat perplexed and then focuses his gaze on Yue-lung's head. "But it's better that you don't to anything with it, indeed. I mean, stop wearing them up or anything. If you put on normal clothes, long hair won't really attract any attention."

Yue-lung shakes his head in disbelief. "It's just stupid," he says. "My position will improve if I change my style? I thought we would talk seriously, Sing."

"Geez, then do as you please!" Sing explodes. "I'm only telling you how the real world works. I can wear whatever I like, 'cause I'm just a kid of the street, but people expect more of the leaders. But of course you're going to have it your way. Like always," he adds with a sting and complaint. "But don't be surprised when you notice that the situation isn't like you wished it to be."

"Any more ideas on your part?" Yue-lung asks in an icy voice, feeling the urge to drink some wine.

"No," Sing snaps back at him. "So we can talk about the guns and money now. Maybe we can reach some agreement about _that_ , at least. Unless, of course, you tell me to get out already," he adds provocatively.

Yue-lung clenches his fists and stops those words from leaving his mouth; he was ready to vocalize them. He wants to say them - just like he always wants to quickly get rid of the unpleasant things in his vicinity - but if he does, then he will lose. He hates to do what others tell him, and thus now, as Sing provokes him that way, he must agree to continue with this conversation, of course. But regardless of his decision, this game goes to Sing, although Yue-lung has no idea if the teenager realizes it himself.

"Guns and money. How much do you need?"

* * *

Somehow, they manage to talk for an entire hour before Yue-lung has enough and orders him to get out. Soo-ling considers it a progress, as their previous conversation ended after some fifteen minutes; yet he isn't sure if he didn't like Yue-ling from a week ago better... That Yue-lung at least seemed to be a real man, flesh and blood, not that lofty and cold person from today, showing with every word and gesture that Sing Soo-ling mattered less than a dust.

On the other hand, Soo-ling has business with Lee Yue-lung the leader of the Chinese mafia, not with the hysterical crybaby. Nobody says they should make friends. Of the two, Soo-ling prefers that cold loftiness than outbursts of tears or rage. Yet, as an incurable optimist, he wants to believe that they will work out some kind of civilized relationship. Nobody can expect that things will move smoothly right from the start, but sooner or later they should adjust to each other. There's no other way.

On his way home, as the rush of air cools down his irritation, Soo-ling wonders if he considers Yue-ling a necessary evil - someone he is _forced_ to cooperate with - and then comes to the conclusion it's not so. A week ago he said, 'I thought it was cool that you were taking over the Lee syndicate'. Well, it was probably because of them two being so close in age, which gives more space for mutual understanding than in case of the old Wang-lung - although assuming that appeared to be a naivety on his part. Nevertheless, he still thinks so, as Yue-lung, despite being a 'weak crybaby', is also smart and persistent and knowledgeable about many things. Cooperation with someone like him can be both pleasant and beneficial.

Maybe that is the reason why Soo-ling insists on saying 'we'; he feels that together they can achieve much more than acting alone, their only cooperation being flow of guns and information. By the time he reaches his home, he is already immersed in the vision of glory they will reach together, like a king and his strategist. Irritation and impatience Yue-lung arouses in him are gone - well, Soo-ling's fiery temper is to blame for that, too - replaced by feelings of loyalty and urge to do his best. A thought of taking advantage of that relationship to strengthen his own position or getting himself rich wouldn't even cross his mind...

Before Yue-lung told him to get our... that is, politely ended their meeting (no throwing of glass or china involved this time), Soo-ling managed to more or less describe the situation in the town to him. Despite appearing ill-affected, Yue-lung listened intently and occasionally commented. He even made three sensible suggestions that Soo-ling decided to think over and possibly implement later. Then, however, their conversation touched the topics the young head of the Lee family didn't feel inclined to discuss, so he finished their meeting, giving it to understand he had enough. At least he didn't say he didn't want to see Soo-ling again, haha.

Soo-ling is aware of being short-tempered; he easily gets angry and speaks his mind, without thinking of the other part's feelings. He quickly calms down, too, but the damage is often done. Before, it seemed to him that Yue-lung is older, wiser and cool-headed (now he laughs at himself for such thoughts), so they would be a nice match, but now it was clear the guy could be upset very easily and very quickly, even in the situation when Soo-ling doesn't mean bad. It worries him; in these circumstances, having a sensible cooperation may prove difficult if their all meetings are done after just one hour...

Then again, he says to himself with his innate optimism, many things can be dealt with during just one hour. And if he applies himself to it, he will undoubtedly be able to extend their time together. Once more, he is overtaken by the determination and resolve to do everything to succeed. He remembers it was Yue-lung who initiated their meeting today and that he was happy because of that invitation. He did his best to not think about it for the previous week, but the disagreement they parted in was like a splinter, making him uncomfortable every now and then. For some reason, today's 'Get out!' didn't hurt at all. Maybe he already started to get used to it.

At night, instead of kings and strategists, he dreams of fussy princesses and devoted butlers.


	2. Chapter 2

When Sing is finally gone, Yue-lung comes to the conclusion the kid is absolutely insufferable. No, actually he realizes it already during their meeting, but he does his best to remain calm. For all Sing being smart, his behavior is that of a total boor. He is an insolent brat who thinks he has all the answers. Yue-lung wouldn't bother himself with someone like him if not for an imperative necessity. For a moment, he wonders if that necessity is truly as imperative as to make him endure such a humiliating treatment - and of who? Someone who, in fact, is his subordinate!

Lee Yue-lung is used to being treated in a civil manner. It isn't about his status, that surrounded him with the servants and compelled devotion; after all, he hates the blood in his veins more than anything. No, also those who hate or fear him use to treat him politely. He knows that something about him forces others to behave calmly and cautiously when in his presence. His quiet voice, his appearance, his spare gestures... They usually made other people unsure. What he also knows is that the prettier he looks, the more others are on their guard, which rules out a mindless arrogance or familiarity.

Unfortunately, Sing seems to work on a different principle and forgets altogether there are at least two reasons he should show Yue-lung some respect: he is both younger and lower in rank. He doesn't mince his words only speaks what is on his mind, without paying heed to the other's feelings. It's not stupidity or carelessness; he simply trusts himself fully and never questions his decisions or opinions. If he thinks he's right, nothing will stop him from showing or proving it. But what right does he have to decide for others? For Yue-lung?! Just like when he said, 'It would be best if you learn basics of self-defense or how to use a gun, at least. Now that you took over the syndicate, you're going to be a target, and yet your current skills are pathetic.' At that point, Yue-lung got too upset and told Sing to get out; he had enough of such impertinence. And then he finally poured himself wine; he was too angry to bear with it when sober.

It feels that whenever they start talking about Yue-lung, Sing has nothing good to say: only criticism and complaint leave his mouth. It's not that Sing hates him; he just doesn't respect him, which is much worse. Oh, how Yue-lung wishes to never invite him here again...! For the thousandth time, he asks himself if he really wouldn't do without that brat, and for the thousandth time, he comes to the same reluctant conclusion: Sing knows the town like the back of his hand, and not only places but people, too. Contrary to him, he is used to fighting on the streets, and it is the streets where their war will start. If they don't regain control of the Chinatown soon, then the Chinese mafia will become a laughing stock with no-one reckoning with them. No, they will be quickly decimated.

And even though some part of him would accept such a total annihilation more than happily, another protests wildly at the very thought. Yue-lung won't let anyone decide about his life. He is the only one holding the thread.

He returns to the previous thought, 'If we don't get the control back, they won't take us seriously', but it makes him remember the conversation about his appearance, which only worsens his mood. Damn Sing!

Once again, he wishes Blanca were here, the only man who treated him nicely although he didn't need to. Blanca was too powerful to fear Yue-lung, and even blackmailed he could still have his way with everything. There was nothing false about his consideration; it was his normal manner. Blanca is an unusual mixture of strength and kindness, a species rarely seen in the underworld. Yue-lung still can't accept his leaving... especially now that realization he will have to bear with Sing instead is unbearable...

The next moment he grabs the phone and dials Blanca's number in the Caribbean. Thanks to his information network, he knows that after his short - but so eventful - trip to New York, Blanca returned to the place where he'd spent the last years. In fact, he could bring the man back against his will - or, at least, try - but he is well aware that it will be in vain if Blanca doesn't want to work for him, himself. And the most probable course of events is that the mercenary assassin wouldn't let himself be caught - even if Yue-lung sent a whole army - only would vanish without a trace, getting out of his reach altogether. It was better to let him stay there, in the Caribbean, where he could always be reached...

"Hello?" he hears the familiar voice in the receiver: serene, polite and giving no clue about who the speaker is. Just one 'hello?' that any man in any place in the world might say.

"I know you retired and are glad with your present life, but is there really no chance to persuade you to work for me again?" Yue-lung says in one breath before it occurs to Blanca to hang up. "I don't plan to drag you away from there, you may continue living in that paradise of yours, but..." He swallows. "But I'd gladly hire you again," he says in a lower voice.

He doesn't introduce himself - nor, despite wanting it, calls him by his name - because it's better to avoid it when speaking on the phone, but there's no chance that Blanca already forgot him.

"If it isn't young master... I didn't expect you to call," Blanca replies, and this time his words ring with surprise and amusement.

His voice is as warm as Yue-lung remembers it, but he is too tense to let himself get emotional. "How could I bring you around and make you come ba-... make you resume your post? You know I can pay you as much as you want, even more. You will be able to do anything you want. I can get you anything you want, too. And the previous condition is also fine: you will be just my bodyguard, and nothing more. It isn't a bad offer, right? Right?"

In the silence that follows, Yue-lung can hear the fast beating of his heart and the blood rushing in his ears. He awaits the reply like a salvation, clutching the receiver - although some part of him knows it is all in vain.

"Young master... Is everything fine at you end?" Blanca asks after a longer while.

"Nothing has happened since when we saw each other the last time, two weeks ago," Yue-lung answers truthfully. "But the situation is quite bad... Now even more than before. I'd feel much better if you were here."

"You have many good people..."

"But it's you-" Yue-lung stops in the middle of the sentence in order to not say too much. This conversation already resembles more a begging than an offer made by the mafia boss... So he states the obvious instead, "They can't compare with you."

"You're too kind, young master, and you clearly overrate my skills. You will do well without me," Blanca says in the voice that leaves no space for any discussion.

"Is that your final answer?" Yue-lung asks coldly, although he really wants to cry because disappointment is too hard... and despite him being prepared for it.

"Take care of yourself. Thank you for ca-"

"And you? Are you all right?" Yue-lung cuts him off as he doesn't want to finish this conversation, even though his wounded pride is urging him to hang up.

He is replied by another prolonged silence, so long it's unbearable. "I bet you flirt with every girl you meet. The weather is probably nice there, isn't it? Here it got pretty cold already," he goes on, desperately trying to keep communication, although at the same time he despises himself for talking about weather, of all things...!

"It's warm and often sunny, too," he finally hears the calm voice in the receiver. "I spend most of the day reading, either in the garden or in the porch if it rains. Every day, I go to the village to get a newspaper, and the books come once in a month. These are the only occasions when I see anyone; I rarely have any guests. It's a very quiet place. I enjoy living here."

Yue-lung is glad Blanca replied, but he also hears the message in the man's every word: 'Im not going to give it up.' Once again, he feels the urge to destroy Blanca's paradise - he could do it - but he stifles it. He knows from experience that to destroy means to end something. And thus he says instead, "Don't worry. As I said, I don't plan to disturb you there," and he can hear how dejected that declaration sounds.

"For that, I'll be very grateful to you, young master," Blanca answers in that ridiculously composed voice of his that he could calm down a little kid with. Yue-lung has no idea why that tone has never upset him, who can't stand being treated in a patronizing way.

"If you agreed to work for me, I would provide you with the best library, be sure of it. But you would have to get your women yourself," he adds, but his words lack conviction. Instead, he feels more and more acutely that he must finish this talk before he says something he will regret.

"Thank you, young master. You think too highly of me."

"Oh, shut up. I certainly do, as you don't deserve it yourself. It was nice to hear you, bye!"

Yue-lung throws the receiver on the phone. He is angry with Blanca and himself... but the next moment that anger subsides, turns into something much more degrading. The feeling of rejection is too strong, too painful. He already regrets making that call, as now he feels even worse. He tries to support that anger but fails; he just can't hate Blanca. With the same result, he tries to derive strength from his wounded pride, as Blanca's distance is an offence. Polite voice, respectful words... and the total rejection.

Why won't he agree? What keeps him from taking the great job offer? True, he has enough money, and what he values above all is to be left alone. He is able to spend his days reading all the books he wants - why should he give it up and resume risky activities? All those are logical arguments, and yet Yue-lung suspects that there is another reason, and that reason is _him_. He pours himself more wine and once more starts to ruminate on his qualities, those bad and those even worse, that make him such a revolting person that Blanca - despite showing him respect - wants to have nothing to do with him.

When his mood isn't any better after two bottles, he orders that the message is passed to Sing to come tomorrow.

* * *

It's a warm evening in the Caribbean. Sergei goes out on the porch and inhales the air smelling of flowers, but what he sees before his eyes is the urban landscape of New York. Once again he feels the pang of guilt for leaving those kids to their own devices. And once again he tells himself he isn't responsible for them.

He didn't expect Lee Yue-lung to call him. No, he didn't even suspect that the young master could know about this place. He underestimated him again... For a moment, he wonders if he should leave here, abandon this home he's spent last four years in and find a new one - just like he vanished and appeared in new places all around the world many times now. Yet, the older he gets, the more reluctant he is to think of change. So, he decides to believe what the young boss of the Chinese mafia said, even though he is well aware that it's not past Lee Yue-lung to betray him without as much as batting an eyelid.

Or maybe not?

He didn't expect the call, but even more was he surprised by the talk itself. There was no threatening or blackmailing, there was no overplaying or deceiving; there was only request bordering on despair that he'd gladly forget. It seems to him that Yue-lung has never been so honest before and speaking his mind. And what astonished Sergei the most was the fact that, perhaps for the first time in his life, the young boss showed something else than only egoism.

Sergei understands egoism well - actually, it is people who act selflessly that he can't really grasp - and he understands Yue-lung almost as well as himself. The young man has no reason to trust or feel any affection towards anyone. He acts the way that protects him, and he believes no-one but himself. He knows that letting others close is dangerous, and he knows only as much as of now. Still, he is a human being, and thus there's more to him than just egoism. When in New York, Sergei witnessed situations that Yue-lung displayed something completely different from those negative attitude and emotions that govern him on a daily basis.

Sergei knows from experience that no man is sentenced to hate. He told it the young boss upon their last meeting. He left him with the belief that Yue-lung too will be able to find something that will save him. But it can also be that he simply wanted to justify his leave, to quiet his conscience for leaving the kid alone. He wished to imagine that the boy will be all right... That the things will take a turn for the better. He shifted the responsibility.

But Yue-lung called and asked, 'Are you doing well?' He didn't have to say it, and yet he said. And Sergei once more wonders what it is about him that attracts all those hurt boys. He never felt like associating with the youngsters, he never wanted to have kids for himself - and then Ash happened, Ash, who became someone special to him. But he ran away from Ash, too, as he didn't have courage and didn't believe he could give him anything.

Lee Yue-lung is too much like Ash, and that's why Sergei, from the very start, wanted to keep his distance, and still tries. He doesn't intend to engage into something that distresses him. He doesn't like being in situations when he can't trust himself, and he has never developed any interpersonal skills, except for when being with Natasha. When he is unsure of himself, he withdraws. His instinct that has never let him down warns him of danger; he's going to listen to it this time as well. He is an egoist and avoids responsibility whenever possible. He won't derogate from this principle.

He goes back inside and grabs the book he was reading. However, he can't focus on its content; he is still upset. He got used to that his employers give him only clear assignments, deposit on his bank account and satisfaction with his service. There are no feelings behind his task other than confidence that he will carry it out perfectly because he is one of the best. That is why now he finds it difficult to get over that desperate desire of the other party - and those words, 'I'd feel much better if you were here.'


	3. Chapter 3

Like always, Yue-lung sleeps poorly - even alcohol doesn't help; he only gets a couple of hours of sleep in the morning. He wakes up at nine with a headache, only to learn that Sing has just arrived. The memory of the evening comes back to him, but reluctance and dejection are quite dull now. At first, he wants to send the guy away - receiving guest right after waking up isn't the best idea - but, in the end, he decides not to do it. After all, he invited him himself, and he should show himself as a serious person. Also, Sing doesn't give a damn about Yue-lung's looks, so version _au naturel_ will do, as well. There's no point in making himself pretty if it doesn't have any effect whatsoever.

"Did you have breakfast?" he asks when Sing enters the room.

"Yeah."

"Good, because I'm not going to. Ask the servants for something to drink. And coffee for me. I'm going to the bathroom, so you have to wait a bit."

"Am I too early?"

Yue-lung shrugs and doesn't answer. At this time of day, he's usually half conscious, too tired for anything. He wonders distractedly whether Sing likes the mornings; seeing how he's up at nine AM... Well, it would fit, as he always seems so ridiculously vigorous.

After a shower, he puts on the first tunic from the wardrobe - peony-patterned - and returns to the living-room. Sing glances up from his tea cup and rolls his eyes.

"You said I can wear what I please at home," Yue-lung says, sitting down in the armchair and taking the mug with coffee. "Are we going out today?"

"Do you like to be a girl so much?" Sing asks with irony and disbelief.

"I hate it," Yue-lung replies truthfully. Women are weak, even if Blanca claims otherwise. "But I hate to be a man even more."

Now Sing stares at him in a total astonishment and frowns. "Why?" he asks after a while, and this time his voice is hesitant... and obviously curious.

"Only bad things happened to me because of the men."

The silence falls; the chirping of sparrows behind the window can be heard. Sing keeps drinking his tea, glancing at him every now and then. Yue-lung is aware of his stare but doesn't care. He wonders about what he said; the memory of what his brothers did to him - and many other men after that, too - makes his headache return after it was temporarily soothed by the shower. And even though he finds it difficult to gather his thoughts - or exactly because of that - a single idea occurs to him perfectly sharp: maybe that's the reason why he wants Blanca to come back so much? Blanca is the only man he doesn't consider a threat; the contrary, he increases the feelings of safety, stabilizes the reality, and brings calm.

But he quickly - like a thousand times before - comes to the conclusion it is pointless to think of Blanca as Blanca doesn't plan to come back. After yesterday, he knows it even more. He tries to focus on present.

"I often sleep in," he answers Sing's previous question.

Again, Sing gives him a blank look - he probably finds it difficult to keep up with this incoherent conversation - and then something unidentified flashes in his eyes. "Even if you sleep in... It doesn't look like you sleep enough," he says. "On the other hand, you seem much nicer than in the evenings."

Yue-lung remains silent, although he is under the impression it is the very first time Sing delivered something else than criticism upon him. However, in the morning he feels like he is in a cocoon, with no emotions getting to him. He keeps drinking coffee, aware that one mug won't do a trick.

"Say..." Sing resumes talking, and there's the previous hesitation in his voice. "You keep saying, 'I hate this, I hate that'... Is there anything you _like?_ "

Yue-lung squints his eyes and looks at him, wondering how he should answer - and if he should at all. Why Sing asks that? "Maybe I'm one of those who hate many things and don't like anything in particular?"

"That would be just like you," Sing says in a voice indicating he actually expected that, which is almost unnerving.

The silence falls again. Yue-lung puts the empty mug on the table and then reaches to his hair. He went to bed without brushing it, so now his head seems like a crow nest. He starts taking the pins out, and when his hair falls onto his shoulder and back, he brushes it with his fingers, trying to get rid of tangles. In the end, he gets up and brings himself a comb from the bedroom, but when he puts it in his hair, it feels his arms are too weak.

"You do it," he says.

"What?" Sings asks.

"Comb my hair."

"I'm not your servant."

That unceremonious reply ignites the very first spark of anger, but it's still too little to break through the layer of numbness around Yue-lung and prompt a right reaction.

"I like my hair," he states, instead of retorting in a suitable manner or even coming down on Sing for such bluntness. "Despite all hands that touched it," he adds in a whisper.

Once again, he brushes away the memories flooding into his mind and making him shiver, and focuses only on combing. Slow motions up and down helps him to stay in this reality instead of recalling those events. With some part of him, he is aware of Sing, who's only sitting and staring at him in silence.

Then the kid loses his patients and asks, "Why did you call me here?"

Yue-lung looks up at him. "I don't remember," he replies with a shrug.

Sing straightens up in his chair and frowns. "What do you mean you don't remember?" he asks.

"I don't remember," Yue-lung repeats with the lightest shade of annoyance. "I was drunk," he adds as if it should explain everything.

Sing shakes his head in disbelief. "Then, why did you receive me now... if you have no business with me?" he asks reproachingly, but before Yue-lung manages to think of any response, he waves his hand and states, "Nevermind, forget it. Nothing happened."

Yue-lung has no idea whether that reply pleases him, but in the end he only nods. Sings doesn't say anything either, and they are sitting in the silence for a longer while.

"Sorry for yesterday," Sing interrupts the silence again.

Apparently, he's unable to be silent longer than two minutes, but this realization pales before Yue-lung's astonishment caused by the words. It takes him several seconds to grasp them. "For being an insolent brat?" he asks.

"Look who's talking," Sing answers at once, bristled. "I mean that I sometimes say things without thinking."

Yue-lung puts down the comb and looks him in the eye. "You're damn right."

Sing snorts. "Like I said, you're the last person to talk," he repeats.

"All right, apology accepted," Yue-lung declares, feeling a slight satisfaction. It seems that the kid can see his own faults. "What now?"

Sing gives him a confused look. "What?"

"I thought you might suggest or declare something."

Sing frowns again and shakes his head. "This talk is really strange," he states.

* * *

'This talk is really strange,' Soo-ling states but doesn't feel like finishing it, in the slightest. No, he doesn't feel like ending this whole _situation_ , even though it pretty much confuses him. It's all because the Yue-lung before him is someone he didn't see before and didn't expect to see, and he has the vague impression that he likes that version the best. At least, something about it amazes and fascinates him.

He no longer likes the cold and impassive - 'adult' - Yue-lung, because he knows it's only a mask concealing a weak crybaby, and he hates duplicity more than anything. Besides, associating with that Yue-lung is tiring as the young boss, despite playing someone in a control, easily gets upset and starts behaving like a five-year-old kid. No, a three-year-old kid. Maintaining a sensible conversation with him is difficult, especially when Soo-ling doesn't belong to the most patient people, either, and he reacts to hysterics with irritation.

However, the Yue-lung sitting before him now seems to be somewhere in the middle, between those two extremes. That Yue-lung - sleep-deprived, tired, maybe even hung over - clearly has no strength to either act like a lofty ruler or getting angry. What's even better, he's amazingly open and honest, even if the conversation comes out slightly incoherent. In just fifteen minutes, Soo-ling learned more about him than during the previous months. He lets himself a cautious hope that maybe that image is the closest to the real Yue-lung and that he manages to spend more time with that version. Maybe he should declare coming here for breakfast every morning from now on, ha ha...

It takes him a while to realize that he _really_ wishes to spend more time with Yue-lung, and not only because of the business. Well, he does consider it crucial to learn about the person he works with. It's quite hard for him to imagine cooperation with someone he doesn't know. Then again... Soo-ling simply likes people. He isn't a loner who avoids contact; it's the opposite, he feels connected to those around him. It can be even said that he feels united with them, and to such an extent that it never occurs to him to put himself above others. Sometimes, it turns against him, like when he should act like a leader, show his authority and, if needed, ruthlessness. But he finds it difficult to impose his will on others, to just issue an order and not explain anything or try to convince, even though it often can't be avoided since people see things differently and they won't always agree with him. In any case, there are things he must learn.

But back on Yue-lung, who is currently sitting in the armchair with his eyes staring at some invisible point and, contrary to his normal appearance, looking a mess: pale face, sunken eyes, hair barely combed and falling sloppily on his shoulder... More then ever before, Soo-ling realizes he couldn't hate him. Just like he said the last week: Yue-lung is a victim and has been hurt, and is probably still hurting. In times like this, Soo-ling sees him as a simple guy, just like himself, even though their social standing, background and purpose differ. It doesn't matter. Once Yue-lung snaps out of it, there is a chance that will be able to find some common ground, although it was only yesterday that Soo-ling took comfort in the thought they didn't need to get friendly.

It is best to strike while the iron is hot... and try to find out how far he could go with that new Yue-lung. "Are you alright?" he asks.

Yue-lung shrugs. "I always feel like this in the morning. I don't sleep well," he replies in an impassive voice, still staring ahead.

"You're not doing any drugs, are you?"

"I'm not."

"Then maybe you... I don't know, should try some sleeping pills or something? I bet it's better than drinking," Soo-ling points out.

"Are you my parent? Why do you care?" comes the answer. It seems he found the limit of Yue-lung's compliance.

"What's wrong with me caring?" he says. "You should take better care of yourself."

Now Yue-lung looks up, his gaze focused on him. "I don't need your concern," he replies.

"Fine!" Soo-lings retorts; he's a bit hurt by that comment, although he should have expected it.

Silence fills the room again. Soo-ling tries to think of some neutral topic to talk about... The safest would be the business, but it seems to him that Yue-lung isn't in any shape for a fruitful discussion. However, before he manages to make a contact again, a knocking is to be heard, and then one of the bodyguards appears in the door.

"Someone is here to see Mr Sing. He says it's very important."

Sing jumps to his feet, suddenly anxious.

"Let him in," Yue-lung instructs.

After a moment that seems like eternity, one of the Sing's most trusted men, Wei, enters the room. Soo-ling tries to show no nerves, but his hands curl into fists involuntarily; he feels his nails digging into the insides of his palms. Wei is clearly agitated, which doesn't bode well. He casts a hesitatnt look at Yue-lung before looking at Soo-ling again.

"Speak."

"It's about Ash Lynx. He was found dead, I don't know the details."

Soo-ling stares at him, suddenly unable to comprehend anything, for what he's just heard is a complete negation of any logic. He tries to get a grip on himself and force his brain to operate.

However, before he manages to ask anything, Wei adds in a lower voice, "There's more. We can't contact Lao. Nobody's seen him since yesterday."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because BF sucks, I watched/read it only once, and that's the reason why I usually get known some details, like chronology, only after I already wrote a chapter or something (that is, when I look into the original to check something up -_-') I know that in canon Ash spoke with Blanca only the day before his demise, but here it seems like a week or so happened in between. It's not really that important for the story, but I'm really sorry for all inconsistencies anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

Before Yue-lung is able to react in any manner, Sing says, "I must go. I'll be back when I know something," and is gone. Yue-lung doesn't move from his armchair; he feels he can't move. The words, 'Ash Lynx was found dead,' keep ringing inside his head, the greatest abstract of the world.

Ash is dead? Something like that is utterly impossible.

A quarter passes and then half an hour before he finally gets up and goes to the study. He sits down by the computer and gets connected to the police database; it's the fastest way to find the information. He's right; soon the data on Ash appear on the screen. He runs his eyes over them until he finds it: 'Found dead in the study hall of New York Public Library on day... at... PM. Most likely cause of death: loss of blood due to a stab wound.'

He leans on the back of the chair, still staring at the monitor. According to the information, Ash died yesterday afternoon. He was stabbed and then bled to death in the library, just a few miles from the Chinatown. And no-one knew about it until now.

Yue-lung sits still, unable to take his eyes off the line pulsating in the screen, 'STATUS: DECEASED,' until it obscures his all field of vision and is carved into his mind to stay there forever. But no matter how much he absorbs those words, he doesn't feel anything. Ash Lynx, his nemesis and someone who managed to evoke so many emotions in him over the last year and a half, is now dead, and Lee Yue-lung doesn't feel a thing. Maybe it's shock, maybe denial, or maybe indifference. Maybe it's the fact that only living people can touch him and make him react. His mother was the first and the last person in the world he ever mourned. All deaths that happened later, those he either witnessed or caused, have been no more than just single events in the string. They have liberated him from the need of thinking of those people.

He feels nothing.

Sing comes back after many empty hours on Yue-lung's part. He is disturbed, can't settle his nerves; he sits down and then gets up again to walk around the room. He is shocked and dejected, and appears guilty. He is so full of emotions that Yue-lung thinks that the two of them maintain the balance in the nature. He catches himself thinking it was the first time he put himself and Sing together in one thought.

"Did you learn who did it?" he asks after Sing gave him the version of events similar to what Yue-lung already knew.

"Lao, probably," the reply is short, but Sing's expression is that of a grieving man.

"Lao couldn't possibly kill Ash," Yue-lung states the obvious... and bites his tongue before saying, 'No-one could kill Ash,' since they were proved otherwise.

"He was found near the library," Sing answers in the same flat voice. "He was shot, and there were also Ash's gun found on the spot, and the knife that... that he..." He breaks off, lowers his head and presses his both hands to his temples.

Yue-lung doesn't inquire about Sing's source; he believes him without reservation. It's something else that occupies his mind. "How could Ash lower his guard to such and extent that he let himself be killed on the bright day in the middle of the street?" he asks.

Sing looks up, only to avert his eyes the very next second. Yue-lung thinks he can see the guilt on his face again, and he realizes that Sing hides something. "Do you know anything about it?"

"What does it matter now?" Sing throws, getting up and walking to the window.

"Well, it certainly doesn't a thing," Yue-lung agrees with him. "After all, those who died are just dead."

Sing turns around violently, his eyes blazing with rage. "You don't care, do you?!" he explodes. "It's all the same to you, and those two being dead... It doesn't bother you, right?! I bet it's the opposite! You hated Ash, so you must be very happy now that somebody did him in! You feel like celebrating, don't you?! But you know what? _I_ liked him, and respected him. We spent enough time together that I learned he is... he was somebody special. And he was okay, from the beginning until the end he was okay, despite all hell he'd experienced! And Lao..." His voice breaks, and Sing sits down on the chair, then buries his face in his hands. "Lao was my brother... was important to me. He cared about me, I could count on him... Why did it happen? Why... Why can't I did anything right...? It wouldn't have happened if I..."

Yue-lung sits in silence; he's not going to agree with Sing's words nor is he going to deny them. He only stares at Sing and is amazed that another person can show so many different, even conflicting, emotions at the same time.

Finally, Sing raises his head - it seems he forced himself to remain calm - and gets up. "It's better if I don't come here for a moment," he says in a dull voice, without looking him in the eye, and then leaves before Yue-lung manages to say anything.

But Yue-lung doesn't know what to say - and if he should speak in the first place. So he lets Sing go, as he has no mean to keep him from leaving. When he realizes it, he's struck by the thought he actually _wishes_ to keep him. He doesn't find Sing's leaving pleasant, and it is the very first distinct impression he's had today.

As he is left alone, he opens the bottle of wine without even thinking. Yet, the more time passes, the more unpleasant grows the feeling in him, and he can't tell what it is causing it, himself: the revelations about Ash, Sing's angry words, or simply being left alone after all that. He drinks three glasses... and it doesn't get any better, as it never does, but it still won't stop him from drinking every time he feels like. In the end, just like yesterday, he grabs the phone and dials the very same number, wondering what he will do if Blanca doesn't answer.

A connecting tone, then the ringing tone, one, two... At least Blanca didn't unplug his phone to prevent him from calling. "Hello?" the same greeting as the previous evening.

"It's me again," Yue-lung says and falls silent, as he suddenly has no idea how to proceed.

"Young master..." Is it just him, or has Blanca suppressed a sigh? "If it's about our talk from yesterday, I'm afraid my answer is the same."

"Even if I tell you that Ash is dead?"

The silence falls on the line, so thick it seems palpable. Yue-lung feels no satisfaction about having caused it. He didn't think Blanca probably didn't know. He didn't think how Blanca would feel upon hearing about it so suddenly, without warning. Why should he think of it? He only wanted to once again try to get him back.

"Excuse me... Could you repeat?" Blanca finally speaks, and his voice is devoid of any emotion now.

"He was found dead in the downtown, I got to know today." Yue-lung stops, but then he suddenly realizes he will have to say more, for Blanca would never believe in his ignorance, so he adds, "We don't know who did it, yet. There are some suspects. He was stabbed and bled to death."

Silence again, longer and longer, but Yue-lung forbids himself from thinking what is happening on the other side. He only wants to think of himself.

"Young master... If it's a joke-"

"It's not a joke...!" he explodes. "Do you think I could joke about it? You're insulting me. I'm well aware you can check any information right away."

Silence, more and more revolting, and yet he must interrupt it to move ahead. "I have no idea what made him so careless as to let him be killed on a street. It doesn't matter," he repeats his previous words from the conversation with Sing. And once he started, it's hard to stop another coming to his mouth, although, with some part of himself, he knows it's not what he really wants to say. "But the truth is he's dead. You couldn't protect him. How do you feel about it? You could always protect every person in your care, right? Ash spoke of it, of that perfect, impeccable career of yours. So now, if you want to correct that mistake, you have only one chance. Ash is dead. I can be next, I don't know when-"

A busy signal. Blanca hung up. For a moment, Yue-lung listens to the sound, and then lets go of the receiver and knocks the phone off the table. The next second, the bottle and the glass follow the suit. Yue-lung is furious, like he hasn't been for a while, and now, after the hours of emptiness, that fury almost crushes him. His hands are trembling, and he feels like he's going to suffocate. He wants to scream, but no sounds comes from his throat.

He is able to contain himself when two of his men appear in the doorway. He lets them make sure he is all right - as much as always, anyway - then goes to the bedroom and slams the door. He flings himself on the bed and covers his head. He wants to cut off from everyone and everything - but he can't run away from himself. He lie like that long hours, unsuccessfully trying to fall asleep. He wishes it were tomorrow already. No, he wishes that today had never happened.

Rage, so wonderful in its power, breaks into many pieces that lose their shape and turn ugly, yet they hurt much more as they get deeper. Regret. Despair. Desolation. Rejection. Hopelessness. Above all, boundless self-loathing. And, what is the worst, emptiness bordering total insanity.

Never before has he felt so pathetic. Never before has he hated himself as much as now.

During that nightmare going on for many waking hours, it doesn't occur to him even once to expect any help. It's been imprinted in him since ever that he doesn't deserve any.

* * *

Sergei hangs up as talking with the young boss of the Chinese mafia is beyond him. He doesn't even listen to his last words, quickly forgets them as they aren't important. He calls the airline to buy the tickets for the next New York flight. Tomorrow morning; he'll have enough time to get to the airport. Then he sits down on the coach, puts his elbows on his knees and rests his forehead on his clasped hands, and freezes.

He doesn't want to believe that... He can't believe that, and yet he believes, as young Lee Yue-lung doesn't use to tell gruesome lies. There was no need for that. Still, Sergei wants to go to New York and see with his own eyes... learn what happened. Learn if he could have prevented it.

'You couldn't protect him.'

His hands curl into fists. For the first time the argument 'I'm not responsible' laughs back at him - and this first time comes too late. He understood his mistake too late. If he had taken responsibility, then Ash perhaps would still... He will have to live with this knowledge until the end.

He presses his hands to his head, slipping his fingers into his hair, but they clutch convulsively as if trying to crush his skull as the scenes flash before his eyes like photographs, each showing Ash's face. Pictures, so many pictures of a kid who, in the meantime, did grow up but was still a kid anyway.

His kid.

They saw each other just last week and talked like good friends with nothing troubling either of them. Sergei, who'd fulfilled his task, and Ash, who'd finally gained his freedom and was facing a new beginning. He'd broken out of his past, buried his persecutors, found something good in life, something to sustain him...

Why did Sergei take it at face value? Why didn't he understand that getting freedom, escaping the past and executing a revenge, instead of a beginning, could mean the end...?

Because he didn't want to take the responsibility. He preferred to think everything would be all right.

He leans onto the back of the coach and looks at the ceiling, then covers his face with his arm and spends the next hours like that. They leave him exhausted - and aware of one thing: he will either take the responsibility now and try to change the future... or spend the rest of his life in fear, never letting himself get close to anyone again.


	5. Chapter 5

The next days merge in one. Outside, the world rolls on normally, but Yue-lung is under the impression he checked himself out of it. He sleeps poorly, feels exhausted all the time and can't focus on anything. He barely eats, his main source of the calories being alcohol. In this state, he doesn't need to think of anything and he hardly feels anything, as fatigue and wine dull his emotions. With some part of himself, he know that he will feel twice as bad later, when he emerges from this daze, but he drives away the thought of any _later_ to come.

Sing didn't pay him a single visit nor did he send any message. From the short reports that he receives every day when he's more or less lucid and that he listens to indifferently, Yue-lung knows at least that the situation in the downtown is strained, and Ash's gang and the Chinese have never been so near the open war as they are now. Sing must be busy, trying to solve it. Yue-lung is aware he should do _something_ himself, being the leader of the Chinese mafia, but he neither have any energy nor any willingness. Besides... Sing didn't ask about it.

While he should.

Yue-lung is perfectly certain that Sing stirs no positive feelings in him - but he is as much aware of the negative feelings caused by the _lack_ of Sing. When Sing isn't there - not physically, just around, near, within reach - Yue-lung has the unpleasant feeling that something is not right. After all, it was Sing who declared that they should cooperate - so now that he's gone, Yue-lung finds it wrong. In the organization, it is logical that once someone obligated to do something, then he should. Even he used to perfectly fulfill the tasks given to him by his brothers, no matter how it disgusted him. Acting like that is the only way to earn respect, to be seen as someone reliable. In order to achieve anything, you must show that you can be trusted.

Of course, it's not that Yue-lung _misses_ Sing. He is simply offended and disappointed with the kid's attitude, and after a week he's inclined to stop seeing him altogether. The more the presence of Sing recedes in his mind, the more he accepts the fact he can count only on himself... and the stronger he feels about going back to the world. He has quite a few episodes like this past him; this time, too, he finds strength to keep going on. He knows the recipe. Eat more and more often, and drink less wine. Procure some sleeping pills that help him sleep more than three hours per day. Take care of his appearance, even if only a little. Resume reading newspapers and the reports from the intelligence network. There's only one thing he shouldn't do: try to find any sense in his action; the best is to let the momentum and routine drive him.

Yet, when Sing suddenly appears one week later, Yue-lung decides to receive him, after all. And despite his will, he notices right away that Sing doesn't look good. His typical energy is gone, and his movements are nervous, aggressive even. His eyes are sunk, and it seems he hasn't slept for a while. He may have lost some weight, too.

And yet it is him who asks, "Are you alright?" which makes Yue-lung utterly perplexed.

Yue-lung needs some ten seconds to answer. "Look who is talking," he says in a lofty, irritated manner, although inside he feels pretty confused.

Sing shrugs. "I am fine," he replies lightly.

'There's a mirror,' Yue-lung feels like saying, but he doesn't, for suddenly he is aware that word fights are pointless. "I heard you were busy," he says instead.

"You bet I was. But it should be okay now," Sing informs, sinking in the armchair.

"You managed to prevent the all-out war," Yue-lung more states that asks, although he doesn't know the details.

"The war with Ash's gang is the worst that could happen to us now. Besides... They are not bad guys. We were able to cut a deal before, and even move together."

"How did you do it?"

"First I tried to make them understand it's not only them who suffered a loss, but it wasn't any valid argument. Ash was someone special, so they wouldn't feel satisfied even if they killed all guys on our side. So there were punches..." Sing mutters, closing his eyes.

Yue-lung tries to imagine that, but the conclusion he comes to isn't pleasant. "Knowing you... You probably said the responsible was all yours...?" he doesn't really ask a question. "And that you would take on anyone who has a grudge against you, right?"

Sing shrugs again. "Lao was not only my man, but also my brother. Of course the responsibly is mine," he says.

"Were there many of them? Those who had a grudge?"

"A few," Sing replies evasively. Then, however, he opens his eyes and looks at him, straightening up a bit. "But it ended with just few scratches, if you want to know. And not even mine. As I said, there's no point in making things worse between us and them. I think we managed to straight them out."

Yue-lung didn't want to know, but he realizes he could only expect that of Sing. And then, which amazes him more than anything else, he feels relieved at the fact that currently Sing is probably the toughest kid on the streets of New York. To realize that feeling of relief puzzles him to such an extent that he is at a loss of words. Sing sinks in the armchair again and closes his eyes, and they just sit like that for a longer while.

When that long while grows even longer, Yue-lung realizes Sing simply fell asleep. At first, he wants to wake him up, to call, 'Did you come here to sleep?' or, 'I don't have the whole day, so could you please focus on me?'... but then he decides otherwise. He sits in his place and stares at the sleeping kid, suddenly noticing that Sing is smaller and more slender than he. Well, there's nothing strange about it, given that he's two years his junior; it's just that normally he emanates such energy and strength that the difference isn't so visible, and his loose clothes add to his built.

Now that the energy is gone, Sing looks like a fifteen-year-old kid he really is, and exhausted beyond imagination, on top of it. And yet, Yue-lung can't but think of all achievements and skills of that fifteen-year-old, as they make the boy someone exceptional. Knowing him, Sing probably slept very little this week - maybe even less than Yue-lung himself - doing his best and even more to prevent a war, and regardless of mourning for his brother. Someone else in this situation would seclude himself at home and try to get a grip on his reality, cutting off from all people and the world - Yue-lung could point at someone like that right away - but Sing has never run from responsibility, even though sometimes it would be reasonable. Actually, most of the time he assumed more responsibility than needed.

As the time passes by and Sing continues to breath softly, Yue-lung realizes that all his decisions and declaration of the last week vanish from his head, as do his resentment and grudge. Finally, he is under the impression that the last week didn't even happen, that the two of them saw each other only yesterday. It is as if there hadn't been those angry words on one side and that cold indifference on the other. He didn't manage to trust Sing yet, so the last week didn't really ruin anything. Of course, he tells himself right away, it's nothing personal. It's just that he's mature enough to forgive the kid his behavior, especially thinking of the possible benefits of their cooperation.

That's why, when Sing wakes up some twenty minutes later - almost jumping to his feet with a panicked expression - Yue-lung says ironically, "Next time just ask for a room. Of course, you'll have to pay, but I'll give you a discount. And we won't even wake you up at ten AM in order to clean it."

"Sorry," Sing mutters and wipes his mouth with his hand. "You should've waked me."

"Well, it's not like I don't know what it means to be sleep-deprived," Yue-lung declares, and is immediately embarrassed by his own honesty.

Sing focuses his eyes on him and, after a moment, nods. "I really may need a room," he says quietly. "Yesterday we held Lao's funeral. And tomorrow it's Ash's turn," he whispers, lowering his head.

Suddenly, he seems ten years older, and Yue-lung once again realizes the barrier that divides them, and it upsets him. He knows he will never be able to understand Sing's feelings, as the only bonds he is capable of are bonds of hatred... But maybe that is why he is able to see that matter in a critical manner. He wants Sing to be back to his old self as soon as possible, to be that spirited boss of the Chinese gang as he's been until now.

"Sing, why do you blame yourself for what happened?" he asks in a perfectly neutral voice. "I know you well enough to know you didn't want that. I understand that you feel responsible as a leader... And Lao was also your family. But don't you think you're overdoing with that mourning for Ash?" he adds with the slightest hint of taunt.

Sing pierces him with his gaze, immediately enraged. He is set aflame with anger in just one second. The provocation worked. "Two people died pointlessly, and you say I'm overdoing?! No, I don't want to talk with you about it!"

"Why do you blame yourself, Sing?" Yue-lung asks again, without losing his cool. "You're not going to tell me than _even you_ fell head over heels over perfect Ash Lynx, are you?"

Sing leaps to his feet and clenches his fists, breathing quickly, and Yue-lung wonders if the kid would fly at him. But the next second Sing turns around and his shoulders drop, although he still won't open his hands. "You still hate him, even though he's already dead. Why don't you give it a rest already?" he says, trying to control his voice. "And no, I didn't think of Ash that way. I just... He didn't deserve to die. Not like that... not that day... Not because I..." he adds in a whisper and then presses his hands to his temples.

"Sing, what did you do?" Yue-lung asks the third time, seeing that the pressure is working.

Silence.

"Don't you think I'm the only person who couldn't possibly blame you? It's something you can't tell your guys or Ash's guys, right? But you must get it out of yourself, cause if you don't, you won't get over it," the words come out easily; Yue-lung didn't need to think of them at all.

Sing turns his head, showing his profile. For a moment, he seems to consider what he heard. "I can tell _you_ 'cause you hated him and don't care, is that right?" he says as if he wants to make sure, although his eyes are full of despair.

"Yes," Yue-lung answers simply.

Sing sits down on the side of the armchair and folds his arms. His expression is pained. He doesn't look at Yue-lung, but he seems a bit calmer. He made his decision. " _How could Ash have lowered his guard and let himself be killed?_ That's what everybody wonders about," he finally start talking, and his voice is very quiet. "Eiji sent him a letter... through me. Just before going to the airport. He probably hoped until the very end that they would see each other, but Ash... didn't want to meet him. So he gave me the letter and asked that I delivered it. Whatever was in that letter... threw Ash off balance... made him vulnerable and blind to danger. Eiji was the most important person to him, but maybe it was then that he learned he was the most important one to Eiji," he whispers, deep in thought, almost forgetting where he is.

But Yue-lung isn't going to let him be in thought, just like he isn't going to breathe a resigned sigh and shake his head in disbelief.

"Just that?" he asks in a cold voice.

Sing concentrates his eyes on him but, before he manages to say anything, Yue-lung continues in that icy tone, intensified by the fury welling up in him, "You think you're to be blame for Ash's death because you gave him that letter? Are you stupid? It could be _anyone_."

"But-"

"It's not your fault. Everyone can say that. It's obvious _you_ are not to be blame. Stop being such a saint. Even if we assume it was that letter that made Ash so distracted, then-"

"Stop! Don't say-"

"...then the first and the last person to be blamed is Eiji! No-one else!"

"Shut up! SHUT UP!"

Yue-lung shuts up, but he doesn't regret his words. No, he would say them again and again, even hundred times so that everyone knows and understands. So that it was perfectly clear and obvious to anyone.

Sing glares at him, mad beyond measures. His face is pale, his eyes are wide open, and his hands are curled in fists again. "Now you can gloat, right? You can laugh and call, 'That's the most hilarious thing!'," he spits. "Nothing could make you more happy than Eiji's pain. I hope you will choke on your hatred one day! And hopefully before you manage to ruin Eiji completely!"

Then he turns around and runs out of the room, leaving Yue-lung astonished, since Yue-lung didn't think of Eiji for a single moment during this conversation. Okumura Eiji vanished from his sight probably for ever, just like Ash, and there's no point bothering his head with him. There's no point hating him. There's no point laugh at him.

'No, everything was about you from the start, Sing.'


	6. Chapter 6

At first, Yue-lung is very pleased with himself; he considers his actions high-minded or even heroic. This time, he managed to remain calm, and it is Sing who lost it. Yue-lung took all his criticism and accusations without batting an eyelid, without bothering about them, for he knew he was right. Even if Sing should hate him, he succeeded in getting the truth out of the kid and showing him he had no reason to blame himself for Ash Lynx's death. It was worth the sacrifice and exposing himself to a possible resentment.

However, as the days go by and Sing doesn't come, Yue-lung starts to lose his confidence and is no longer sure that everything happened as it should. Even if he is used to being an object of hatred and he even persuaded himself into thinking it pleased him, now the more time passes, the stronger he feels he doesn't want Sing, of all people, to hate him. This discovery upsets him; apart from Blanca, he hasn't longed for any warmer feelings from anyone. It's been so long he can't even remember when he decided to never trust anyone... to never let anyone close, because it would mean harm. Now that he began to slowly get used to Sing's presence, it makes him anxious, and some part of him warns him about the danger... another, however - maybe because he's just irrevocably destroyed what was between Blanca and him - desperately wishes that nothing about the current situation changes... that Sing comes back, just like he's always had, so far.

But Sing doesn't come back, and this time, instead of blaspheming, posing as an offended person and declaring he is definitely through with the guy, Yue-lung gets more and more dejected. Realization that in just a few days he's managed to put off all two people who treated him humanly crushes him under the heavy load. It doesn't help that he keeps telling himself he doesn't need anyone and pleads to his hurt pride. It doesn't help, on the other hand, that he tries to convince himself it's better this way because, at least, Blanca and Sing will never learn the _whole_ truth about him, will never find out the _full_ scope of his pathetic person. He feels worse and worse with every passing hour, and he knows he can blame only himself.

His mood isn't improved by the fact that the anniversary of his mother's death falls out these days, the anniversary of the day marking the end of his childhood and start of the nightmare he has yet to wake up from. Like every year, Yue-lung drowns in memories that flood his mind. He's never learned how to fight them or drive them away. Images and sounds, a movie that quickly turns into reality forcing him to participate. When they come, they take hold of him and made him relive that terror, that helplessness and that pain.

His mother's screams turning into moans and then monotonous wailing before going silent. Laughs and crude voices of his brothers. Hua-lung's quickening breath behind him and hands gripping convulsively his body. And blood, blood on the face of the woman who was his all world, and then everywhere, flowing and flowing until there is no more and his mother turns into a lump that was once a human being.

Everything that happened later mocked his name. The moon dragon's wings were broken before he even learned to fly. They took his freedom and right to decide for himself, and left him at the mercy of others. They trampled over his personality and squashed him into the ground. They deprived him of his self-worth, convinced him he was no dragon nor man, just a worm that only serving others could deserve to live.

In fact, that pain and that terror saved him. If not for them, his life would have really ended then, but that suffering was acute enough to permeate him and stir a reaction. It taught the mutilated dragon hatred, the only thing capable of moving him forward. That hatred gave him power, sustained him for the next ten years, let him endure everything - even the greatest humility, even the most foul treatment, even the most revolting deeds - and lent patience, always whispering the words of comfort. Even if the dragon had his wings broken, the hatred polished his claws and sharpened his fangs, to wait for the moment to strike and win. He didn't need to fly; when the time came, he torn his enemies apart and bit their heads off.

But the revenge didn't make him forget. He couldn't cut himself off from his past, and his wings never healed so he could soar into the air and fly to the moon. He was forced to crawl on the dark grounds, stumbling over the dead bodies of his tormentors because harted turned against him and could no longer light his path. He remained a prisoner of memories and nightmares that seem to never end.

In those nightmares, he becomes that little boy again, unable to escape his persecutors. He can't see their faces, sees only their hands reaching for him from every direction. Countless hands grabbing his arms and legs, slipping into his hair and under his clothes, moving over his lips and his skin, penetrating his body and taking hold of every part of it. He is unable to break free, ha can only endure the touch and noiselessly cry as he waits for the end. But the end won't come; the hands won't let go of the toy they can violate for the whole eternity, as they don't mean to destroy it either. The only thing Yue-lung can to is to withdraw into himself, as deep as possible, hide in that tiny grain that is left of his soul, and dream of a world where something like touch doesn't even exist.

When he becomes immersed in those waking dreams, he is detached from time and reality. He doesn't eat nor drink, he only sits on the chair, hunched, trembling. His people keep away, waiting until it's over as it always comes to an end, and know better than to try to bring him back to consciousness. When someone touches his arm, asking 'Are you alright?', his response is violent.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" he screams, leaping out of his chair to cling to the wall. "Don't you ever touch me again!"

* * *

Soo-ling feels like jumping backwards himself, as he didn't expected such a reaction, fitting rather a wild beast than a man. Yue-lung is standing with his back against the wall, his body is tense as if he's ready to flee - or to attack. His hands are trembling slightly; his breathing is quick and shallow, and his mouth is open. His face is white, and his eyes are wide open, with the pupils covering his irises.

Soo-ling lifts his hands and says in a calming voice, despite his shock, "Alright, I won't. I didn't want to scare you, I'm sorry."

It doesn't seem like Yue-lung can hear him, but the next moment Soo-ling asks himself if the guy recognizes him in the first place, as there is no comprehension in his gaze.

"It's me, Sing," he says just in case. "I won't hurt you," he adds as something urges him to do so.

Then he slowly walks backwards and sits down on the coach at the other end of the room, frantically wondering what could have made the young mafia boss so frightened. Never before has he seen him like that, and he hopes he wouldn't see again. Sometimes, he witnessed such condition in people who hallucinated because of drugs or alcohol - they would see enemies all around - but Yue-lung said he takes no drugs, and Soo-ling believes him. Nothing indicates that the guy has been drinking today, either.

Yue-lung doesn't take his eyes off him, he barely even blinks... but after a while his face relaxes, as does his body. He takes a couple of deep breaths, then gulps and runs his hands over his face, as if he waked up from a dream. Maybe it is really so. Finally, he breaks away from the wall and returns to the chair, without saying a word. He seems terribly exhausted.

"Anything happened?" Soo-ling asks.

Yue-lung shakes his head, his eyes fixed on the floor. "Not today," he replies in a whisper, but then he looks up. "I don't like... being touched."

' _Don't like_ doesn't begin to cover it,' Soo-ling thinks but leaves that remark unspoken. Then, on impulse, he asks, "Why?"

Yue-lung presses his lips in a thin line, and Soo-ling knows he shouldn't ask. Before he manages to say, 'Ah, nevermind,' Yue-lung clenches his fists so that his fingers turn white, and his eyes lost their focus.

"My brothers used to rape me whenever they pleased since I was thirteen. Especially Wang-lung and Hua-lung didn't hold back. Occasionally, I was given to their business partners as a toy, too," he answers in a dull voice.

Soo-ling feels sick; it is something he didn't really want to know. He is amazed that Yue-lung could say it, but at the same time something in him protests against such things happening. He would've never suspected anyone could do it to his own family member... "I'm not surprised you wanted to kill them," he says honestly, with disgust. "And that you did it."

Yue-lung focuses his gaze at him again. He's looking at him as if he saw him for the first time... and then his eyes fill with tears and he covers his face with one hand.

Soo-ling is alarmed. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he declares, mad at himself.

Yue-lung, however, shakes his head and says nothing, so they sit in silence for a moment. Soo-ling stares at the hunched figure on the chair at the other end of the room and tries to gather his thoughts. He knew that Yue-lung's half-brothers had killed his mother, but now he learned they had hurt him even more. Just like he's just said, Soo-ling doesn't blame Yue-lung for wanting a revenge and then executing it in a cruel manner. He also realizes he no longer wonders about the guy's lability of mood and behavior. The only thing he can marvel at is that Yue-lung, despite all he's been through, is still here. No, 'marvel' is just a little part of his feelings. Like he said before, Yue-lung has been hurt, but only now knowing this arouses sympathy. And respect.

Once again, Soo-ling is struck by the thought how much Ash and Yue-lung resemble each other, and it's the first time this parallel isn't unpleasant. He really liked Ash, while Yue-lung... well, let's say he just tried not to hate him, at best. Yet now the difference starts to blur. Ash died, and Yue-lung lives, and Soo-ling knows that the only sensible thing is to invest into this relationship, a relationship with a living person. There is nothing he can do for Ash anymore.

He remembers why he came here today. "Hey," he breaks the silence, and Yue-lung, who's managed to calm down a bit in the meantime, looks up at him. "The last time... um... I said things I regret now. I felt bad, and I thought that... But it's not any excuse. I just vented my anger on you, and it wasn't okay. I know that Ash's death didn't meant to you what it means to me, but I shouldn't have said that anyway. But now I'm fine. So... I'm sorry."

Yue-lung observes him without a word. There's fatigue on his face, but his gaze is focused, and Soo-ling knows that everything he said was heard and received. Then Yue-lung sighs softly and looks away. "Sing, even if I hated Ash, it no longer matters," he replies in a composed voice. "But you may be certain of one thing: his death didn't make me happy, not for a moment. I don't know if you believe me, but it's true. Just like I don't mean to rejoice Eiji's situation. I don't think about him."

Soo-ling nods slowly, although Yue-lung's words make him feel even more guilty, as it seems that, in his own despair, he really attributed feelings that weren't there to the guy.

"But maybe, in order to avoid such misunderstanding in the future, we just shouldn't talk about them...?" Yue-lung goes on. "No matter what, we'll never see eye to eye on this matter, so it's better to not take a risk, don't you think?"

"Okay," Soo-ling replies as the suggestion is reasonable.

Yue-lung nods and then looks away. "As for your apology... I accept it," he said quietly. "I'm glad... I'm glad you..."

"What?" Soo-ling asks, frowning and expecting the worst.

"That you've come back," Yue-lung answers in a whisper, staring at his own knees.

Soo-ling only gapes at him, incapable of saying anything. Then he runs one hand through his hair, confused. "When I realized I acted like a brat, sure it felt awkward to come here. But it would be even more awkward to not come," he mutters.

Yue-lung shakes his head and seems ready to burst into tears again. Then, however, he straightens in the chair, takes a deep breath and looks at him again. His fingers clutches at the fabric of his trousers. "Sing, I'd like to come more often," he says directly, although his eyes are wide again as if he is scared.

Now, Sing's astonishment is so great that he can't react in any way. At the same time, he becomes more and more alarmed and, in the end, he must stifle a quite voice in his head that urges him to be on his guard, as such declarations on Lee Yue-lung's part cannot possibly spell anything good.

Yue-lung is clearly distressed by his silence. "You could say something," he throws with annoyance, finally sounding like his own self.

"I was left speechless, young master," Soo-ling replies.

Yue-lung frowns. "Don't call me that," he murmurs in reluctance and looks away.

Unexpectedly, Soo-ling feels like laughing. "In that case... I'll come tomorrow for breakfast."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the first stage cleared with these 6 chapters ;)


	7. Chapter 7

The next weeks create a new routine for Yue-lung, and to such an extent that he sometimes finds it unnerving. Just like he promised, Sing comes every day for breakfast, and his hearty appetite sometimes makes Yue-lung eat something, too; not so rarely, he visits in the afternoon or evening as well. Thanks to him, Yue-lung is up-to-date with the situation in the Chinatown that slowly turns better than it was just one month ago. They talk a lot about it, exchanging observations and opinions, considering options and planning the next moves. They not always agree and often fiercely fight. (The presented arguments sometimes lower the level of discussion considerably, like Yue-lung's 'I'm older, and I graduated from high school, you brat,' or Sing's 'Someone who spends days in front of the mirror has no idea about life on the streets.') Actually, this kind of catfights happen at least twice per week, but they no longer lead to angry kicking the other out or self-conscious apologizing.

Owing to Sing's breakfast visits, Yue-lung goes to sleep earlier in order to be more conscious in the morning; sleeping pills help him to sleep without nightmares. Owing to their focus on the Chinatown matters, Yue-lung regains his interest in the business of the syndicate. He starts to engage in leading the organization again; he reads the reports of the respective groups working both in NY and outside, talks to the main bosses and delegates the tasks to them, analyzes the finances and investments, and keeps track of courses and trends in the black market. He participates in the management meetings; he left the board almost unchanged as they accepted him as a new head of the syndicate after the previous one and five next in the line of succession had died. He contacts the possible business partners and makes new deals.

Leading the organization is a task that absorbs him so much that he doesn't think of those less pleasant spheres of his life nor reminisces about his past. Actually, recently he's been under the impression that the load weighing on him since ever turned a bit lighter. He feels he has more energy. When he wakes up in the morning, he doesn't think he wishes that the evening came already; he concentrates on the schedule. He eats more regularly, and he drinks alcohol only with the meals. Contrary to Sing's taunts, he doesn't spend his days in front of the mirror; he even stopped putting on the tunics - now he wears trousers and shirts, and he keeps his hair bound simply in the back of his neck or, sometimes, braided. His ability to concentrate and memory get better, and the little successes he achieves in leading the syndicate make him appreciate his skills and motivate him to keep using his intellect that he's sometimes even proud of. But what he enjoys the most are meetings with Sing; he got used to them and looks forward to them, and to such an extent that whenever there's a change in plans, he feels greatly displeased.

Over just a few weeks, Sing became essential to life for him, at least essential to his mood. Yue-lung doesn't feel happy, but, in fact, he never has, so he doesn't even expect it; it's just that his daily life turned into something bearable and he's able now to pass the days without feeling there's no point in it. Even if he doesn't feel like laughing, at least his spells of melancholy ended.

Whenever he and Sing are together, there's always teasing and attempting to prove one's superiority, using sharp tongue and even insulting - after all, they both have short tempers and can get really angry - yet Yue-lung subconsciously senses there's no ill will behind it. Sometimes, when he has a particularly good day, he comes to the cautious conclusion that he could trust Sing and believe it won't turn against him. When with Sing, he doesn't feel any danger, and it's a strange realization that Sing apparently feels safe here, too, considering those occasional naps he takes in his living room; Yue-lung never wakes him up from them.

Even though some part of his mind - a tiny voice speaking in the moments of unusual optimism - warns him against trust and attachment, putting fear into words and presenting thousands of bad endings, Yue-lung tries not to listen to it, to ignore it, to dismiss it with statement he has everything under control.

* * *

The Vietnamese keep acting boldly in the Chinatown, but the Arabs lose influence and coverage. It's them that Sing's actions focus on currently; the strategy is to take the enemies one at a time, but observing another's reactions closely. The Chinese slowly yet effectively continue to thin out their ranks, suffering little loss themselves. Finally, in the early summer, the time for the final confrontation arrives.

"We'll get them tonight," Sing says; he only stopped by for a moment. "They retreated to their base. At midnight, we make a raid and take out their leaders."

"You do realize it won't mean the end of trouble?" Yue-lung points out, despite them having talked about it many times already. "Knowing the Arabs, they'll soon have new leaders. It would be better to use the occasion and kill every last one of them. You know I can provide you with as many people as you need."

Sing shakes his head, like many times before. "I hope to show them once and for all that they shouldn't mess with the Chinese," he states. "It's enough if they never set foot in this part of Manhattan and never think of the Chinatown again."

"You're naive," Yue-lung says. "You expect them to give up so easily? It's likely they'll want to even the score and the conflict only prolongs."

"Let's say the total massacre isn't my thing, okay?" Sing replies, slightly annoyed.

Yue-lung isn't glad with that answer, but he knows he should give up. He's tried to persuade Sing many times and always failed, as Sing can be as stubborn as he. Nevertheless, he decides to have his men on standby, just in case.

Sing appears to read his mind. "Besides... If we can't deal with them by ourselves, we'll become a laughingstock of the whole NY," he adds. "So no."

"Let me remind you it's you who wanted my help," Yue-lung points out in a cold voice, toying with the tip of his braid.

"But there's no need to waste it on the Arabs. Then again, the Vietnamese are a whole different thing. I have no doubt I'll need your manpower to deal with them," Sing assures him and rises from the coach. "Okay, I must go."

"I'll have some observers there, so I'll know what's happening," Yue-lung informs him, getting up as well. He hopes Sing will get the message, 'So you don't have to come here if you're tired.'

Sing nods and then checks his gun. There's nothing nervous about him, and his movements are confident, but his face is quite tense; his expression has barely even changed today. Finally, he looks up at him again. "Then, I'm off," he says.

"Good luck," Yue-lung replies simply.

Sing nods once more and leaves. Yue-lung sits down on the coach again and tries to convince himself everything will be just fine. But as the time passes, his anxiety only grows, so he gets up once more and approaches the window to look out in the darkness. He will get up and sit down like that many times this evening. He realizes that it's much worse to just wait than to act. Thinking reasonably, he's aware he wouldn't be able to do much on the battlefield; he's not a warrior, only a ruler. He must trust Sing's abilities, also as a leader; however, that trust doesn't help much, for Sing, unfortunately, belongs to that group of generals who fight in the first line, exposed to the greatest danger...

That thought lets him understand that it is Sing he worries about, and only Sing; the success of the battle falls into the background. So far, Sing has got through every fight unscathed, but this time it is the full-scale war of the two gangs in question, and everything could happen. Yue-lung does his best to not imagine it, but he's more and more scared by the idea of _Sing not coming back._

His brains gets on a loop until he cannot think of anything else. He's not going to muse over the reason of that fear - he still won't admit the bond between the two of them - he just knows he can't have that happen. He is perfectly certain that if Sing disappeared from his life, then he would... he would...

It seems there's not enough oxygen in the room, so he opens the window, but it doesn't help at all. His heart is racing, ready to jump out of his chest. His hands are trembling, and then he starts to shiver all over. He feels he will fall to pieces any moment. He pours himself some brandy; alcohol helps him to calm down a bit. It helps to turn fear into action.

When the clock strikes ten, he calls one of his agents and gives the new instructions.

* * *

So far, the situation is good and Soo-ling's people are focused. Even though the recent plans have been made on short notice - based on the enemy's movement - the Chinese can quickly adapt to a new strategy. Soo-ling knows the guys trust him, trust his ability to judge the situation properly and then choose the best course of action. And, since they trust him, they can carry out his orders and engage in battle without fear. Soo-ling is proud of them, and he does his best to never let them down. It took him a while to gain that trust - after all, he lacks Shorter's charisma, and the two of them have different ways of doing things, too - but over the year and a half of mutual adjustment and several successful actions the guys finally accepted him as a leader.

The Arabs retreated to their base to regain strength and balance; in the last two weeks, the Chinese kept giving them a hard time with few moments of rest. They won't be expecting a frontal attack on their own turf, and it's that surprise that the success of Sing's plan depends on. They aim at dealing a blow that the enemy won't recover from for a longer while.

Like he suspected, there's hardly anyone on the lookout; the Arabs feel secure in their own territory. The few guards are taken down swiftly; the Chinese can move stealthily and are specialists in silent killing. Soo-ling and his unit sneak near the building the leaders of the Arabs, up to ten people, occupy. The other unit went round the back.

Soo-ling feels no fear, only excitement. Even if he happens to often worry about things related to his leading the gang, in battle he concentrates only on action. During fight everything is so simple, so clear, and there's no time to think of any less important stuff. Sometimes, he must make a decision in a split second; if he doesn't, someone else will decide for him and it will be that. So far, Soo-ling has always chosen right, and he can only hope his luck will continue.

At midnight sharp, he runs into the building, leading the attack, and the shots break the silence. Now they can only count on the intuition and the resemblance with other houses; they couldn't exactly make a reconnaissance in the enemy base. Yet, Soo-ling knows that no serious street gang leader would stay in the uppermost floors, so he expects to find them much lower. And he's right; the door in the second floor opens, and several Arabs with guns get out of there. Above, they have the advantage of position, but the staircase is dark, so it is them who are visible because of the light coming from the apartment. They are perfect targets for the Chinese, who don't miss.

Soo-ling runs up the stairs under cover of machine-gun fire. More of enemies get into the staircase through the backdoor; it seems his people didn't succeed in securing the back. He doesn't let it get to him; the priority is to dispatch the Arab leaders once he's here already. He can't let them get out through the fire escape. Finally, there's no alive enemy on the staircase, and the apartment door is open, with the light still coming out. When he can hear no sound from inside, he takes a deep breath and gets inside the messy apartment, but there's nobody in it. He runs to the fire escape, but he can't see anybody there either. The fighting continues downstairs, in the backstreet; it seems all Arabs nearby came to help their bosses.

Soo-ling knows it's time to retreat before the situation puts his side at a disadvantage. Their goal was achieved; there's nothing for them here. As agreed, a quarter past midnight - that's how long Soo-ling scheduled for this blitz - everyone stops the charge and starts to get back to the Chinatown, regardless of the outcome. He enters the staircase again, taking his people... but then he can hear the sound of the cars being stopped on the street - many cars surrounding the vicinity - and then many feet... and shouts, for all demons, shouts in _Chinese_ demanding identification before another shooting starts, one to quickly decimate the Arabs.

Soo-ling clenches his fists as suddenly everything gets clear to him. Euphoria after the victory vanishes, replaced by fury. He feels like strangling someone to death, and someone specific. His eyes spy the familiar car in the end of the street, and it takes him just a few seconds to reach it. Yue-lung gets out himself, sparing him the trouble of dragging him out. And it is him who speaks first, his voice composed, "The Vietnamese learned about the action and wanted to use that opening to attack you from behind. There was no chance to warn you in time, I had to act. I'm glad you're all right."

Soo-ling is still clenching his fists, just like he's clenching his jaws as he stares at the figure in a suit before him. It feels he's never detested Yue-lung as much as now, and it takes all his power to refrain from going at him and beating to a pulp, just like the guy deserves it.

"You let them know yourself, right?" he hisses. It was one of the plans Yue-lung once suggested: to let the information about the attack get to the Vietnamese and provoke them to into action, in order to take care of the both gangs in one fell swoop. It seems Yue-lung wanted to use it at all costs. "You just had to have it your way."

Yue-lung says nothing, he's just standing there still, but the lack of denial is the best proof Soo-ling is right, regardless of how much he wished he weren't. But it's Lee Yue-lung there, someone capable of the lowest moves, including stabbing in the back someone who trusted him. Soo-ling managed to forget that truth, and now he pays for it.

"I hate your way of doing things," he spits with disgust. "You've just used me as you pleased."

Yue-lung twitches as if he wanted to reach to him. "No, Sing, it's not-" he starts, but Soo-ling doesn't plan to listen to him.

"Leave me alone," he says before turning back and walking away.

He feels like walking the streets of Manhattan until morning, although he's not at all certain if it will be enough to help him calm down even a bit.


	8. Chapter 8

Yue-lung considers the week following those events to be one of the most horrible in his life, although he no longer knows himself what is the worst about it: Sing's anger, his absence... or being mad at himself. Sing doesn't show his face, not for a single time. It's not that such situations didn't happen before, but now, after several weeks seeing him every day, Sing's absence makes Yue-lung almost physically unwell. Yue-lung feels as if, after many bright days, the sun went out and total darkness fell. The moon can't shine without the sun, after all.

So far, Sing would always come back at some point, but Yue-lung, like always, believes it won't be the case ithis/i time. His personality, shaped by tragedies and wrongdoings, has never made him prone to optimism; he lacks mental strength to have faith and hope, and a single complication is usually enough to make him imagine the worst-case scenario. This time, Sing probably got upset for good, and there was no chance to get back what was born between the two of them over the last few weeks. Yue-lung isn't surprised at all; even if he meant well, he hurt Sing's pride, and Sing is a very proud man, despite his short stature.

As the days pass, he's no longer certain if he really meant well. After all, he's always done what accommodated _him_ and never thought of the others. That night, his actions may have aimed at keeping Sing safe, but his only motivation was his own benefit. But once he realizes it, he understands it's the most natural thing; after his mother died, he had only himself. Other people either tormented him or... well, he couldn't trust them anyway. In the end, he was always alone and could count only on himself. That's why now he tries to turn his dejection into anger and contempt for himself: for having lowered his guard and gotten used to someone else's being near. If he'd acted like always, he wouldn't have this problem now; he wouldn't go through this degrading feeling of being abandoned and excruciating desire of the other's presence...

And though he should use this opportunity to break up with Sing once and for all... no, to learn his lesson and never again engage in a relationship with another person - has he had not enough? - he realizes he just isn't capable of it. No matter how he despises himself, he just can't stop wishing that those days were back, days when his life was in a balance and he felt... well, if not happy, then at least satisfied... felt everything was like it should. He wants it all back: the meals and discussions, making plans and creating visions, even that bickering that was devoid of any real wish to hurt. He wants to regain his motivation and interest so that he can lead the organization. He wants that new and collected Yue-lung back, one he can like at least a little. Without Sing, it's completely impossible.

He should have stopped him. He should have talked with him instead of letting him go away. Reproaching himself for that is easier that commonsense conclusion that, even if he'd taken him by force, it wouldn't change the situation... and besides, he wouldn't have known what to say anyway. 'I didn't want you to get hurt'? 'I had to do something to make sure you will be all right'? He could never utter such words, and it was unlikely that Sing would even believe him. Yet, it doesn't stop him from recalling that conversation, from analyzing all words spoken and wondering what he should have phrased differently.

Finally, a few days later he realizes he treated Sing exactly the way his brothers had used to treat him. He didn't consider Sing's opinion only imposed his will on him, taking away his right to decide for himself. This discovery makes him sick. Even if it's the way of being and treating other he developed - was there anything wrong in doing to others what was done to him? - then Sing, of all people, didn't deserve it...!

After a week, Yue-lung realizes that waiting and thinking won't bring Sing back. He must rewin him, apologize to him, do something - _anything_ \- to convince Sing to return to him. This resolution makes him feel better, like it happens always when he manages to form a plan, make a decision, find a way out of a problem. He isn't even distressed by the thought of apologizing, for all it being a new thing to him as he's never asked anyone's forgiveness. If he is to choose between his own pride and retrieving Sing, who guarantees his psychological balance, then the choice is obvious.

From that moment, he begins to think intensively how to do it... which quickly leads to another unpleasant conclusion: he hardly knows anything about Sing. He has no idea what would please Sing, what would make Sing think better of him and forgive him for what happened. Sing doesn't care about money or luxury. As for power, he's perfectly fine with being the leader of the Chinese gang. He is so different from people Yue-lung has associated with in the last years that it's unnerving... but, then again, it's exactly about Sing being different; if not, all this story wouldn't have happened.

In any case, the idea to appease Sing's anger with any material compensation is not an option. Other options are non-existent as well, as Yue-lung has never bothered to find out Sing's likes and dislikes. In fact, he does realize that no gift will do a trick. Maybe he just wanted to focus on it because it's much easier to give a present in a pretty wrapping and believe it will take care of everything. Things being as they are, there's no other way than empathizing with Sing.

Looking at the events from another point of view is something new for Yue-lung - he's never needed to do it before - but he quickly realizes it's not as hard as he feared. Even if he knows next to nothing about Sing, after their daily meetings and conversations he can _at least a little_ understand his way of thinking and reacting, as Sing usually doesn't hide his emotions; it's the contrary, his all mental states are obvious. In many respects, he and Sing are different like day and night, but they do share some common views; besides, they are both Chinese, so at least they have the same mentality.

Sing was offended and humiliated when, against his will, Yue-lung interfered in the fight with the Arabs, bringing his men despite Sing being certain his gang could take the enemy on by themselves. He probably believed Yue-lung had it planned before. Like he said, 'You've just used me.' Yue-lung's interference was denial of the partnership that formed between the two of them over the last weeks. Also, it was disrespect to Sing's battle skills and invasion of his authority as a gang leader. Yue-lung treated him like a kid who can't decide for himself, and it was the worst thing here because, even if Sing _is_ a kid, he's also one of the most talented gang leaders in the history of NY.

Then, Yue-lung must think how to compensate that offence and that humiliation. How to show Sing that he respects his authority, and make Sing believe once again he is in control. Yet, it proves to be the most difficult part, because Yue-lung doubts his word can convince Sing. No, he's perfectly certain that whatever he says, Sing won't be able to trust his words. Yue-lung must _do_ something to prove Sing he is serious about it. He must humiliate himself. Sing is proud of his skills and achievements. It can be that his pride is his greatest treasure, so it won't work if Yue-lung doesn't offer anything of similar value.

However, Yue-lung doesn't think of himself that way, doesn't value himself, regardless of some traits one could considers virtues. He has no idea what he could give to appease Sing and get the situation back to normal. The only thing that's exceptional about him is his good looks.

And this is what finally gives him the idea. He starts putting it to practice at once, without even thinking of it any longer, because he knows that if he thought, he would probably give it up at once.

* * *

Soo-ling knows he should finally go to see Yue-lung. As long as they have the same goal and business, breaking off with him won't do. Besides, although he admits it with some difficulty, he got used to his daily visits in the mafia boss' place and their lively discussions. In the last weeks, Yue-lung's more normal side started to show up: a brilliant and capable descendant of the family that ruled the Chinese underworld for generations. A hysterical crybaby who couldn't see farther than the end of his nose vanished. Their relation began to resemble a business partnership when there's mutual respect.

Or that's what Soo-ling thought, but the truth is he was deceived and Yue-lung played him like he pleased. Soo-ling gets upset every time he remembers the situation from one week before, although he's not sure if he's more upset with Yue-lung or himself. He should've got used to the twisted personality of the young boss already. It isn't the first time Yue-lung plotted behind his back and behaved in a way that could be considered a betrayal. Well, nobody should expect any moral decency of a leader of a crime syndicate, and in case of this particular boss it's utterly impossible.

Soo-ling should just accept it and move on... and yet he can't. And that's why he has yet to visit Yue-lung. He's scared of being used again, which will undoubtedly happen because he's naive - or he's scared of that fear making him incapable of trusting again and always looking out for a deceit. He doesn't want it because now, once he learned of Yue-lung's another side - he believes it's real - he wish to keep that relationship. Somehow, he knows it's only his honesty and openness that enable Yue-lung to show that other face of him; if Soo-ling becomes cautious and withdraws, then the leader of the syndicate will react exactly the same way.

So he tries to wait the situation up, hoping to come to terms with himself in the meantime. Maybe he also attempts to 'punish' Yue-lung, to show he won't allow to be treated that way anymore. To give him a lesson. Until now, it was always him who would run back to Yue-lung with his tail between his legs and apologize, taking the blame, but this time it's obviously the other party at a fault and he will be damned if he forgets about it. He does his best to ignore the voice of commonsense telling him that it will be snow in July before Lee Yue-lung comes to make amends first.

Sometimes he regrets it that he gave him no chance to explain, that time one week ago when they saw each other the last time. He became angry, shouted his mind off and left. He doesn't even remember what Yue-lung tried to tell him. He's still perfectly sure that snake had it all planned... but he's not exactly proud of his own reaction either. He acted like a brat again, even though he managed to pretty well control his own temper in the preceding weeks.

At times, he tries - reluctantly - to look at the matter from Yue-lung's point of view. The syndicate wants to bring order to the town as soon as possible, using all means at its disposal. Thanks to that action, the Arabs were taken care of and won't return to Manhattan in many years, and the Vietnamese hid and haven't acted up in the last week at all. Seen from this perspective, Yue-lung's actions did much more good than harm, but Sing Soo-ling decided to focus on licking the wounds his pride sustained.

Maybe tomorrow he should finally do it and visit the residence he's become quite acquainted with... especially that he's fed up with his homemade breakfasts already.

When he makes that half-decision, he feels better, as if some invisible load crushing his shoulders and dampening his mood recently finally eased. However, before he has time to enjoy that lightness, he can hear the steps on the corridor.

"Boss, you got a visitor!" comes from the outside, then the door is opened, showing one of his men, who then steps aside to let through the one following him... no other than Lee Yue-lung himself.

Soo-ling jumps up from an armchair. He stares at the leader of the syndicate and is perfectly certain he hasn't been more surprised in his life. He feels like looking out of the window to make sure it's not snowing - 'Idiot!' he scolds himself in his thought - and then asks himself if it's not a dream.

But Yue-lung is standing there, beyond doubt alive and real, and only stares back at him. They stand like that for a longer while without looking away, in silence that is finally broken by Tao, who mutters awkwardly in the doorway, "Um, boss...?"

"Leave us alone," Soo-ling replies without looking at him. He still can't take his eyes off Yue-lung; he may be expecting the guy to vanish the moment he looks away.

The door is closed with a quiet crack, and the world is narrowed to this room only. Soo-ling still has no idea what he should do or say because he's paralyzed by the astonishment.

Then again, his guest doesn't react or show any initiative either, and Soo-ling suddenly starts to wonder if he's alright. Yue-lung is pale, his expression is serious, and his eyes are wide open. His features are sharp, and he seems exhausted, as if he didn't sleep well recently. His clothes are neat, though; he's wearing a gray suit and a shirt, and his hair is brushed back and secured at the back of his head, with just a few loose strands falling on his forehead.

Finally, Soo-ling snaps out of it and remembers he's a host. He looks around the room and winces upon noticing its state. "Sorry for the mess, um... I didn't expect any guests. Sit down. Want anything to drink?"

Yue-lung, however, doesn't reply. He gulps and then walks up to him. "Sing, I came to make up with you," he speaks at last, and his voice is tense. "I hope this will do as an apology."

'Meaning what, exactly?' Soo-ling feels like asking when he recovers from the shock caused by Yue-lung saying 'apology', and referring to _him,_ on top of it. Before he has time to ask, though, Yue-lung takes off his jacket, then unbutton his shirt with trembling hands and bares his shoulders. He lets his arms fall and comes to a stop before Soo-ling, without taking his eyes off him, although he doesn't appear to see him, as he's not exactly looking _at_ him, only _through_ him. His face is very pale, and his lips are quivering.

"Now..." he says, and this time his voice is but a whisper.

And it's only now that Soo-ling realizes what Yue-lung has in mind. He suddenly feels like screaming, asking what kind of joke it is, or running away without ever coming back. He frowns and takes a step backwards, which makes Yue-lung blink and lower his eyes.

Driven by some impulse, Soo-ling comes close to him again and, in a rough gesture, pulls the shirt up on his shoulders. "What are you doing?" he yells, buttoning the shirt; his hands too are now trembling. "Have you gone completely nuts?!"

Now Yue-lung's eyes focus on him, and his expression becomes hurt as if Soo-ling hit him. He presses his lips in a thin line and looks away with tears in his eyes. He steps back, getting away from his grasp, and storms out of the room without a word.

Soo-ling runs his hand through his hair, staring at the dark corridor outside the door. He has the impression something went wrong and he somehow failed at being a hero, after all.


	9. Chapter 9

Blinded by tears, Yue-lung runs down the stairs, out of the building and into the limousine. He hides in its wonderful darkness and utters, 'Drive home!' although saying those two words requires his whole strength. His lips are trembling, he's shivering all over, so he wraps his arms around himself to prevent falling apart. He tries to hold back his sobs, presses his eyelids tight, but the tears won't stop. He puts one hand to his face and keeps swallowing down, but it only helps him not to burst out crying aloud.

Sing pushed him away.

The realization is so excruciating it only brings more tears. Yue-lung wished to make up with him, was ready to give himself - as he has nothing else - but Sing didn't want even that. He rejected him. It's obvious he hates him. For a whole week, Yue-lung believed... hoped that they could go back to what they had for the previous month... rebuilt what slowly came to be between them after the events of the spring. A whole week long, he wished for that and thought of nothing else, in the end he decided to pay with the best he had - but Sing didn't accept that price. It is likely that Yue-lung only made him more furious and provided the last straw.

There was no hope.

Yue-lung bites his lips when sobs start to shake him again. All fear he tried to drive away for a week, forming plans and making decisions, comes at him, for now he has nothing to protect himself with. He can't imagine his life without Sing's presence. He's unable to go back to his previous existence, marked by emptiness and hatred for others and himself. Thanks to Sing, he found something to sustain him: a new, warm and genuine quality, so unlike everything that accompanied him for the ten years.

However, he was naive, thinking he could keep it. He can only destroy. He's never developed the ability to create bonds; he only excels at breaking those that happened upon him by accident... sabotaging his own happiness in fear of getting hurt. First he did it with Blanca, and now with Sing, too. He's the most wretched and revolting creature in the world... and he's fed up with it. Today, he found out he hit the wall he can't overcome, even if he were the most powerful man while he isn't. He feels weak and exhausted, wants only lie down and fall asleep. And finally cut himself off from this pain that somehow hasn't managed to kill him so far.

When he arrives home, he's calmed down a bit and is no longer crying. In the bedroom, he grabs the bottle with the sleeping pills and empties it on his hand. He doesn't look at the colored capsules any longer. He takes them all, washes them down with water in the bathroom, then flings himself on the bed, pulling his legs and arms up. A peace comes over him.

Before the drowsiness takes him, he suddenly remembers he left his jacket in Sing's place.

* * *

Soo-ling sits down on a couch and tries to understand what the hell has just happened. In his wildest dreams - and he has quite a vivid imagination, too - he couldn't expect a scene of that kind. Lee Yue-lung came here of his own accord, apparently wishing to apologize to him... only that apology was rather non-standard. Well, 'young master' _usually_ is non-standard, whatever he does, Soo-ling comes to a quick conclusion. Still, it was a bit of overkill to expect that Soo-ling would like...

Well, Yue-lung _is_ prone to being excessive with things, he decides in the next moment with resignation.

Unless, of course, the guy went completely insane, which was possible, too. For the first time in a week, Soo-ling feels guilty at the thought he cut himself off him and didn't think for a single moment how Yue-lung was doing. Sure, the mafia boss is older, but Soo-ling knows well that in many aspects the guy is like a little kid. One week is a long time, and everything could happen... including going crazy, haha... But really, he realizes, he didn't act cool himself; he promised to come to him, after all. Well, maybe not exactly promised, but he came anyway - and every day, on top of it.

Suddenly he feels all that anger and resentment of the last week as utterly pointless... and only proving his immaturity. Nothing serious happened; quite the contrary, the situation in the town hasn't been so good in a while. Besides... it seems Yue-lung _really_ felt guilty and _really_ wanted to make up with him. Why else would he come here - he, who is used to others coming to see him...?

Soo-ling tries to comprehend the idea of Lee Yue-lung feeling guilty about hurting somebody else's feelings, but he finds it difficult, almost impossible. It's much easier to imagine it was all an act... but when he recalls the mafia boss' expression from just a moment ago, he rather thinks it's not the case this time. Yue-lung seemed terribly upset, and Soo-ling can't quite believe the guy's acting skills are so good.

He begins to be mad at himself for reacting that way. That is, ugh... he reacted the only proper way; it would never occur to him to do what Yue-lung suggested. Still, he didn't have to refuse so flatly... that is, to answer with such hostility. Sure, he was surprised, but... It seems the two of them still haven't learned how to solve their conflicts peacefully; they were still like kids who get upset and run away at once, instead of sitting down and talking, finding a mutual understanding and a solution. Last week, it was him who ran away, and this time Yue-lung... Really, how long is it going to take before they will finally start to behave like serious people?

Yue-lung ran away, but the look he gave him keps bugging Soo-ling. Yue-lung looked as if Soo-ling hurt him. Well, maybe he was offended by the fact Soo-ling resisted his... hmm, charms. But it could also be that he considered Soo-ling's reaction as unwillingness to make up. What it was he said? 'I hope this will do'...? It sounded as if he wanted to give something as an apology. Of course, sex was the last thing Soo-ling could desire, but Yue-lung didn't have to know about it; he only offered something he considered a fine compensation...

Soo-ling feels like pulling his hair out of frustration. In the end, he comes to the conclusion - perhaps the most lucid one today - that he won't get anywhere just sitting here and thinking. It's quite late but still not too late to pay that particular host an unexpected visit. Of course, it's likely that Yue-lung, now being the one offended, won't agree to see him, so maybe Soo-ling should rather wait until tomorrow... Something, however, makes him insist on an earlier meeting, maybe a feeling he should for once _benefit_ from his impulsiveness. It can't be that he doesn't think twice about getting angry and running away, but when it's about doing something more reasonable he muses over it again and again.

Driving to Yue-lung's residence doesn't take long. He's let inside - he's long since got a free entrance any time of the day - and learns that 'young master' is in his rooms. Soo-ling doesn't believe the guy went to sleep already; it's too early for that. However, the living-room is empty, and the door to the bedroom is closed.

"It's me, Sing," he says after knocking. "I want to talk."

He's answered by the silence. He suppresses a sigh; he could have expected this.

"Look, we must stop doing it... I mean, getting upset and running away all the time," he goes on, hoping to convince Yue-lung to react somehow.

There's still no sound coming from inside, and he expected at least a familiar 'Get out!'

He frowns. He feels something isn't right. "I'm coming in," he informs and presses the handle.

The lamp on the night stand is turned on; the light is coming from the adjacent bathroom as well. On the canopy bed, a curled figure is lying.

"Hey...?"

Yue-lung is lying perfectly still as if he's asleep, but Soo-ling unconsciously knows it's impossible; Yue-lung couldn't sleep in somebody else's presence - or not to wake up when somebody appears near him. He comes closer, getting more and more anxious. His foot touches a plastic bottle and sends it under the bed, but Soo-ling picks it up without thinking and reads the etiquette, although the name doesn't tell him anything. And when his eyes go to the man lying on the bed again, he realizes Yue-lung is not breathing.

"Jesus Christ, you can't do this to me...!" he groans, shaking the inert body in a futil attempt to wake him up. "Help! HELP!"

Steps on the stairs, men in suits rushing inside. Commotion, raised voices. Call the ambulance, then wait, wait, so long it seems an eternity. Yue-lung is still breathing, but it's very slow and very shallow. Soo-ling feels he gets ten years older with every passing minute, and the prolonged periods between Yue-lung's breaths keep increasing his risk of getting a heart attack.

An ambulance finally comes. The medics move unconscious Yue-lung onto the stretcher and start ventilating him. Soo-lings gives them the empty bottle and basic information - about the mafia boss' health and use of alcohol, and that it couldn't be longer than thirty minutes since taking the drugs - although he is under the impression it is somebody else speaking, somebody calm and collected; himself, he feels like a frightened kid who lost his footing. But he follows them to the hospital as he can't do anything else now, and then spends hours in the waiting room of the emergency department, praying and cursing, making threats and promises.

And not wanting to think that everything might end badly.

He's livid at Yue-lung like he's never been before. He could strangle the guy with his own hands. He doesn't get it how anybody could be so stupid as to try to kill himself. Life is dangerous enough, and death can happen all of the sudden - and that fool, that bloody idiot decided to reach for it himself. Soo-ling doesn't believe Yue-lung emptied that sleeping pill bottle only to have a good night sleep. On the other hand - terror clenches his throat again - he could have taken some elaborated and instantly working poison, as he's a specialist... so maybe it's better than he took some plain drugs.

In any case, Soo-ling considers a suicide to be the greatest stupidity a man could commit. Even if there are many unpleasant or bad things in life, it doesn't mean something good can't happen. But when one dies, there's no chance to ever experience anything good. Everything just ends. But that moron didn't even think of it, only took those pills and gave up that chance. How is it possible to see everything dark and gloom and decide on something like that?! How is it possible to lose an objective look altogether?

The truth is Soo-ling prefers to rage because he know that if he stops and thinks of it, then the things won't look so simple. But they aren't simple anyway! Yue-lung may... No, he mustn't even consider that option. He must believe that cunning snake will get out of it, like he's always got out of any trouble so far. Otherwise, everything will be a nonsense and a horrible injustice.

Soo-ling forgot that Yue-lung wished to die - or maybe he preferred to not think of it since it didn't fit his worldview. But Yue-lung said it himself in that conversation that was a kind of new beginning for the two of them, although it could have been the end, as well. He said that only hatred and desire for revenge had kept him going. That time, he was ready to accept his death from Soo-ling's hands, and now Soo-ling can remember even the smile that Yue-lung awaited his death with... a smile sad as hell, and the only one he's ever seen him with.

Soo-ling thought that during that talk he gave Yue-lung some new goal in life - their cooperation aiming at getting the town under control. He didn't even plan it, it just came out like that, but it can be that later he convinced himself it made Yue-lung focus on action and forget of less pleasant things. Yet, he should have known such ideas could just stick to a man and speak up every now and then. He should have known it was something more than just a bad approach, just like it was a naivety on his part to believe that Yue-lung will just 'get a grip' on himself. Just hearing somebody tell you, 'Hey, stop thinking of death,' doesn't make your problems magically disappear.

And even if it were so... if it was Soo-ling who did that magic... then the responsibility was his. Maybe Yue-lung did act like a hysterical girl - overdosed drugs because he was upset! - but Soo-ling realizes it wouldn't have happened if not for _his_ behavior. So he feels guilty and knows that he will never forgive himself if... if...

He clenches his fists and bites his lips as he suddenly feels like screaming. He doesn't want to spend the rest of his life feeling guilty. He can kill his enemies on the street and feel nothing, but... but Yue-lung isn't an enemy. He isn't exactly a friend, either, but he is somebody who Soo-ling doesn't want to remove from his life. He's an arrogant and conceited asshole who doesn't care about anybody, a whimsical princess wanting that the whole world revolve around him, a calculating bastard who always must have his way... but Soo-ling is aware of that and accepts it, and he can no longer imagine Lee Yue-lung as a polite and endearing man. He became attached to him, and that attachment makes him see something more behind that arrogance, whims and egoism... much more - enough to never want to give up on him.

Enough to hope that everything will be alright, after all. Not because of his own guilty conscience, but because Yue-lung deserves to live and experience some good. And if Soo-ling can have his share in it, then... all the better.

It's well past midnight when he dares to approach a doctor and ask him about the condition of the failed (hopefully) suicide.

"We performed a gastric lavage in order to prevent the absorption of the medication and had Mr Lee transferred to the intensive care unit," he learns. "Seeing as how he's hold out until now, the prognosis is good. His condition should keep improving. He is still unconscious, but he's breathing spontaneously. His breathing continues below normal because the substance is still present in his nervous system. Of course he is on oxygen, so saturation is maintained on a desired level."

Soo-ling says nothing, so the doctor takes his leave. The feeling of relief is so great that Soo-ling must sit down again. During last few hours, it was adrenaline keeping him alert, and now he's under the impression his strength ran out at once, but at the same time he feels like laughing. According to the doctor, there is no longer any danger and Yue-lung should survive. Soo-ling thinks he's never been so happy as he is now. He covers his face with one hand and keeps sitting on the bench, trying to pull himself together after the shock.

When he finally succeeds and his clenched throat loosens a bit, he starts to think of the future again. When Yue-lung regains consciousness, Soo-ling is going to kick his ass so that it'll never occur to that bastard again to do such a thing. And then he will demand compensation for all psychological distress he's gone through because of him. Right, he'll expect to get paid with interest for that fear and stress, and thus make Yue-lung regret ever having thought of harming himself.

He wipes his face and goes to buy himself a coffee from the machine. He has no intention of leaving here until Yue-lung opens his eyes again.


	10. Chapter 10

Yue-lung opens his eyes. He sees an unfamiliar ceiling above, but the regular beeping sound and specific smell make him realize he is in the hospital. Despite his brain feeling like cotton, he immediately remembers the events of the... last evening? He has no idea how long it's been since that. He remembers what happened in Sing's place, remembers his own despair and swallowing down the content of the drug bottle in a wish to fall asleep and never wake up again. Judging from the situation, he didn't succeed, and he can't tell if it makes him relieved or the contrary. His emotions are dulled, as if they are still asleep.

After staring at the ceiling for a moment, he turns his head... to see a person half-lying on the edge of the bed. It's Sing. Yue-lung is under the impression his heart, that has been beating very slowly, speeds up now. Sing is sitting on the chair, resting his upper body on the high hospital bed - and sleeping. There's no-one else here, but behind Sing's back Yue-lung can see a nurse moving behind the glass pane.

His eyes return to the sleeping figure, and he wonders what Sing's presence might mean. The last time they saw each other, Yue-lung was absolutely certain Sing didn't want to see him again... and yet he's here now, probably has spent many hours by his bed. That realization causes a pang of guilt, and the next moment Yue-lung catches himself wanting to touch that messy head lying on the cover. He's too weak, though... and besides, he never wanted to wake Sing. Knowing the guy, he'll wake up by himself soon.

It doesn't take more than a few minutes before Sing utters something between a snort and a mutter and sits up. He wipes his face with his hand and looks at Yue-lung; his eyes grow wider. "Hi," he says just like that, though. "How are you feeling?"

Yue-lung stares at him in silence without saying anything, and Sing frowns. "Hey, you're okay? Do you recognize me?"

"I recognize you," Yue-lung whispers in reply and then adds without thinking, "What are you doing here?"

Sing frowns even more. "Sure, why should you be any nicer..." he mutters in reproach. "But I can tell you're getting better, speaking like that, young master," he says, and Yue-lung cowers inwardly.

"No, I mean... _Why_ are you here...?"

"What do you mean, why am I here?" Sing asks annoyed. "It's obvious; I was worried to death about you. How could you do something like that? Didn't you think about how I would feel? No, of course not. I bet it didn't even occur to you 'cause you thought only of yourself. You're the most selfish bastard I've even met... Not that it's anything new."

Yue-lung tries to fish up some sensible message out of that speech. "You were worried?" he asks quietly. "I thought you hated me."

"I told you long ago there's something about you I just can't hate," Sing replies with a snort. "Why do you always have to imagine the worst and never accept any positive things? Or simply forget about them?"

"Today, you haven't told me anything positive yet. You've only run me down..."

"Oh no, I haven't run you down yet," Sing shakes his head. "It was just a beginning. I'm mad at you. I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I saw you there, unconscious in your bed. I was certain you stopped breathing. How could you pull something like that? You're really nuts, it's a miracle they managed to save you..."

Yue-lung is not listening; he concentrates on the information that after their last meeting Sing came to him... But why? "Why didn't you let me die?" he asks, interrupting that litany of complains and hoping it really sounds like a question, not a criticism.

Sing stares at him in astonishment, but there's no hesitation to his words. "You mustn't die."

"You'll do well without me," Yue-lung says in a resigned voice. "You're a brilliant gang leader, you're going to get the town under control in no-"

"That's not what I'm talking about, you fool!" Sing interrupts him. "If you died, it would be horrible. So many people have died pointlessly already. Why should you add to that number? I don't want see somebody die though it could be prevented again. It would be horrible," he repeats. "After all that wrongdoing you experienced... you should live and be happy. At least _you_ should," he adds in a lower voice.

"It's not that easy..."

"You always say that. You can't give up! You must find something that would make your life meaningful. You live only once," Sing points out as if it were some kind of argument. "And you have a lot of time to search for that something."

Yue-lung remains silent. He stares at Sing for a longer while and then looks away. 'But I already found it,' he would like to say but can't.

"Hey..." he hears Sing's voice. "It it my fault? That you did... what you did... yesterday?"

Yue-lung turns his head to look at him again. He didn't expect Sing to connect those two things. He wants to confirm, then to negate, and then he no longer knows himself. It seems to him that if he were to blame anyone, it would be himself, not Sing - and when he forms that conclusion, he understands it's true.

"Is that 'cause I didn't want... you know..." Sing keeps talking, and his voice only grows hesitant. "If I had done what you wanted me to... um... Though I wouldn't even know what to do in the first place, haha..."

Yue-lung sees the blush on his face, and it's what encourage him to speak. "I wanted to apologize," he whispers. "But I didn't think any other way to show you I was serious about it. I was often given as a gift, as a token of goodwill, so I thought-"

"You're a fool," Sing interrupts him, shaking his head. "You can't treat yourself like an object. It's disgusting, I would never want it," he informs, and Yue-lung feels like he's been hit.

"You would never..."

"Geez, I mean there's no need for that!" Sings appears annoyed again. "Nobody forces you to do things like that anymore, right? You got rid of people who did it. Why should you keep acting that way?"

"Maybe it's a habit. I couldn't think of anything else," Yue-lung mutters. "What else should I... offer?"

"You're really a fool."

"Stop calling me that."

"You thought it wouldn't be enough if you just said it?" Sing asks in a tone indicating he was talking about something obvious. Maybe it really was, to him. "We would make up, and that would be it. I was glad when you came yesterday, I really was. I planned to go to your place for breakfast today, but you were the first to come. I mean..." His voice becomes hesitant. "Okay, I was shocked, and then you started to... um, undress yourself... and it turned pretty funny..."

"Sing, you should work on expressing yourself," Yue-lung says automatically.

"Look who's talking," Sing retorts, glaring at him. "I don't know anybody else who sucks at showing what he really thinks like you. No, you do everything to make others understand you wrong."

The silence falls, and Yue-lung knows it's true. Deceiving and misleading others is as natural as breathing to him.

"Back on the topic, though," Sing resumes talking, and there's uncertainty to his words again. "Does my... being here means that much to you?"

Yue-lung opens his eyes wider, once again surprised. So Sing guessed even that... What a bad actor he was. But, he remembers then, Sing could always see through him. And could always put his observation into words.

"I didn't plan that," he whispers, averting his eyes.

"Moron. You can't _plan_ such things," Sing comments in an awfully snotty manner.

"So now I'm a moron?"

"You've always been. But then... You don't hate me?"

Yue-lung gives him an astonished look. "No," he replies simply.

"But... It's not like you've fallen for me, either?" Sing keeps asking, red as a beetroot.

Yue-lung frowns. "It was the stupidest thing I've heard in my life," he says. "Of course I haven't fallen for you." 'After all, I'm not capable of loving,' he adds in thought.

"Good to know," Sing replies, clearly relieved. "Let's forget about it."

For some reason, Yue-lung isn't satisfied with that proposal. He feels defiant; he would rather keep talking about it instead of forgetting. "I got used to spending time with you, Sing," he declares quietly, although just a moment ago he didn't consider himself to be someone to open up like this. But to hell with that deceive. He won't achieve anything acting like always and keeping these important things to himself. "I got used to talking and eating together. It gave me some rhythm... some content. It helped me to focus on something... so that I didn't need to think of those... bad things all the time. It made me feel better, stronger. It felt good."

Sing stares at him like he's seen him the first time. "It's the same for me," he says simply.

Yue-lung would like to believe him... Well, he should believe him as Sing - contrary to him - isn't someone to lie with a straight face, but... "But yesterday..."

"Look, let's pretend yesterday never happened, okay?" Sing suggests without looking him in the eye. "It was a communication failure and... It was a failure. I told you I was really happy that you came. We just... We just have to do our best to avoid such misunderstandings in the future... as it seems we're prone to them..."

That Sing included them both in the same sentence makes Yue-lung feels funny inside. He has no time to focus on it, though, as the next moment he realizes what Sing said. "Then..."

"I'll stay with you," Sing interrupts him with a declaration Yue-lung didn't expect. "We have much to do yet. But never do such things again."

"I don't want you to act out of fear," Yue-lung says, although something inside him screams to shut up and just accept the offer; yet, he feels it's important. "I don't want you to feel that I blackmail you."

"You think I really believe that blackmailing people is past you?"

"Well, I may have done it, once or twice..."

"This week?"

Yue-lung rolls his eyes but then looks at Sing again, begging in silence for _that_ answer.

And it does come, spoken in a voice of a perfect resolve. "No, I'll stay 'cause I _want_ to stay, not out of fear," Sing says. "As I said, I got used to our... hmm, cooperation. And I want that it continues. Besides..." He gives him a critical look. "I can't see such a loser getting along without me."

Yue-lung snorts in an offence... mostly faked as in fact he feels terribly relieved, and that relief is pretty close to happiness. "You may be right," he says quietly, looking down.

Sing laughs, but the next moment he bites his lips and wipes his eyes. He turns his face away and blinks several times, gulping down, and Yue-lung realizes he hasn't seem him so thrown off balance before. Again, he feels like reaching and touching him - something he's never done before. It's perfectly clear to him that he made Sing worry and, which is also new to him, feels bad about it.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I promise I won't do it again."

Sing is still looking aside, but he receives his promise with a short nod, and it's good. Yue-lung is aware that his declaration doesn't mean the will of life _forever_... but, at least, he decides to live _now_... and for some time yet.

He remembers what Blanca told him the last time they saw each other: 'There must be someone who loves and cares about you.' He has no idea about Sing's 'love', but of his 'care' Yue-lung can be certain.

That's more than enough for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, one-third is done ^^ I hope you feel motivated to stick with this story. I try to maintain a good balance between writing new chapters and translating them, as I publish both in the same time. I hope to write at least 5 more, maybe even as much as 8, before my break in August. But the story will undoubtedly continue in autumn until the end. I always finish what I started ;)


	11. Chapter 11

Afterwards, Yue-lung has no memory of that conversation whatsoever. He can only remember he waked up and found Sing by his bedside, but all that followed - what they talked about - didn't register in his head. The doctor said this kind of amnesia was a typical aftermath of overdosing the sleeping pills and nothing serious, but Yue-lung feels terrible about having had an obviously important talk with Sing and not remembering it at all. Yet, he would feel even more terrible asking about it, so he keeps quiet... and only occasionally wonders if there was a camera in the patient room, registering everything; if there were, he could at least get the record.

However, he is strangely calm, and the fact Sing is there - and acting just like before - indicates they made up. And when Sing announces about moving into his place right away - that is, after Yue-lung being discharged - he decides some miracle must have happened and tries not to regret having no memory of those few hours after he came to.

When he cautiously asks Sing about the reason behind that decision, he gets a resolute answer, "I don't trust your men. They are like robots. They only carry out your orders and don't care about anything."

"And you do care?" Yue-lung asks without thinking.

Sing nods, giving him a look clearly saying, "Isn't it obvious? Why do you even ask, fool?", and Yue-lung must again drive away the regret of being an amnesiac. What is more clear, though, is another feeling: he doesn't want to burden Sing more he already had. It's a new feeling - before, he didn't even consider it that his behavior might trouble someone - but it's so persistent he doesn't want to ignore it. That Sing is still in his life and apparently plans to be in it from now on, too, means he really cares about him... and in that case, Yue-lung's action must have worried him.

Unless it's about fear that Yue-lung might do something like that again. Sing wants to have an eye on him. He doesn't trust him and is bothered.

"I told you it's not that," Sing replies with some irritation when Yue-lung inquires about it. "I'm not responsible for you," he mutters. "Besides, you promised to never do it again, so I want to believe you. You already forgot?"

Yue-lung shakes his head. Forgot? No, he didn't memorize it in the first place... He decides to take steps to prevent from embarrassing himself even more. "Sing... Is it okay if we won't talk about what happened?" he suggests.

Sing glowers at him but nods in the end. Maybe he thinks Yue-lung considers the event mortifying enough to never want to recall it... and too embarrassing in general to ever talk about it.

For his part, Yue-lung has no idea if he's ashamed of what he did. It seems to him he acted according to his feelings. He's not going to reproach himself for that... but he doesn't plan to regret he didn't succeed in killing himself, either. He doesn't believe it to be possible to regain his will to live just like that, but he can at least _try_ to live. If Sing is there for him, it will certainly be easier.

If anything fills him with shame, it's that Sing had to go through all that. Earlier, Yue-lung would rather be happy that his action brought Sing back - that everything happened according to his will - but apparently his way of thinking changed a little recently. He tries to focus on it and think how to make it that Sing didn't feel responsible. Well, he did say he didn't... but Yue-ling is under the impression his suicide attempt shook Sing quite much.

The possible solution that occurs to him soon fills him with conflicting emotions. He plans to try it nonetheless; it's the least he can do. Besides... Unlike before, he has a feeling that nothing is lost yet. It takes him a while until he recognizes it as hope.

* * *

The Caribbean is beautiful every time of day and year, and yet Sergei feels he's lost his will to enjoy anything. He stills reads a lot - it's the only way to have his attention occupied - but it gives him no pleasure, and whenever he puts yet another finished book down, his mind returns to the real world, that seems to have lost its charm, maybe for ever.

Sergei wonders if it's injustice of fate or the contrary that in his life he managed to let only two people close to himself and then lose both of them all too early. Apparently, someone like him, a killer who took so many human lives, doesn't deserve happiness, and it would be naivety, or even a blasphemy, to expect anything else.

The day of Ash's funeral was rainy. The raindrops kept hitting the casket and mixing with tears of the gang members, who didn't even think of using the umbrellas. The cemetery almost witnessed the hostilities between them and the Chinese gang, represented solely by Sing Soo-ling, who was standing away from the others with a stone face. If Sergei hadn't been so apathetic, he could spend hours telling those boys about the young Chinese's unselfishness - and admiration he had for Ash - not only because Ash wouldn't want that the two gangs fight. However, his dejection made him stand there in silence without speaking to anyone, staying with his own pain and leaving the others with theirs. He didn't talk with Sing either, he only greeted him with a nod as they stand there apart.

Then he returned here, but everything has been so gray and dull since then. He realized that Ash, for all his name, brought colors to his life. They didn't have to be together, but Ash's life was something Sergei accepted into his own. The boy made him proud and happy. He, who could only destroy, managed to create something, too, because Ash was, to some extent, his creation. Was.

He learned what happened. He learned about Ash's pointless death - but was there any point to dying in general? He learned Ash was killed by another street kid, but the reason for that was the letter he received from that Japanese boy. Sergei is far from blaming Eiji; he only wonders if he didn't make a mistake, thinking the Japanese was the best that could happen to Ash. He wonders if he's to blame himself as he didn't persuade Ash to stop bothering with Eiji; at first, he really tried, but later it was Ash who persuaded him... And now Ash is dead, the Japanese is back in his Japan - maybe at least there boys are able to have safe lives and dreams? - and he... He feels guilty.

That realization reminds him of yet another boy that the destiny made him cross ways with. In the last month, he's been trying not to think of him - and if he did, then only with resentment - but the memory of him would return to him every now and them. He wonders how Lee Yue-lung fares and if everything is all right with him. And though he keeps telling himself it will be better to never again accept anyone into his life, he can't stop wondering if he shouldn't have taken his job offer after all. If he'd been in New York, then maybe Ash...

A phone ringing interrupts his thought. He doesn't feel like talking to anyone, and yet he goes back inside to pick up... maybe because only one person has called him in the last months, the one he just can't get out of his head, no matter how he tries. When he hears the familiar voice in the receiver, it still fills him with conflicting emotions; he's never come to _like_ the young mafia boss, and yet he's managed to get _attached_ to him.

"I didn't plan to call you again," Yue-lung says after greeting him and asking to listen him out, so Sergei listens. "But just once more I wanted to ask you to work as my bodyguard. It is the last time, I won't bother you again. I realize you may not like it... especially after the previous time. And I won't be amazed if you say you don't want... to have anything to do with me." He falls silent for a moment. "But the situation changed a bit. I did something... unreasonable and burdened someone who didn't deserve it. I don't want that he feels responsible for my safety... so I'd rather have you take care of it. If you become my bodyguard, then, given you skills, he won't have to worry..." Silence again, stretching in eternity. "Hey, are you there? Say something...!"

"I am here, young master," Sergei says, trying to snap out of shock that left him speechless. "I was thinking..." 'if someone switched you,' he wants to say but, of course, can't, "of what you said."

 _"Seriously, you kept calling the guy and begging him to come back and work for you?"_ he suddenly hears the familiar voice in the background.

_"Sing! What... How dare you eavesdrop on me? Get out of here! I'm having a private conversation!"_

_"If that's so, you should've closed the door. 'Private conversation'? My ass. You're talking about_ me, _so I have every right to listen."_

"Excuse me for a moment," Yue-lung says in the receiver. _"Sing, what part of 'Get out!' you don't understand?!"_

Sergei is under the impression it's been a long time since he was so surprised... but, at the same time, he feels like smiling. He thought he forgot how to do it. "Young master... Maybe we should talk later?" he suggests. "You seem to be busy..."

"I'm not busy! I mean... _Ugh, Sing, are you going to stay here?!"_

_"No. Let me speak with him."_

_"What?! Why should I-"_

"Young master, maybe you should indeed...?" Sergei says. "We'll quickly get it over with..."

"You really prefer to talk to him?" Yue-lung asks, clearly offended.

 _"Give me that already._ Sing speaking," a resolute voice of the leader of the Chinese gang can be heard in the receiver. "I've just moved in the young master's place 'cause that fool overdosed the sleeping pills and ended in the hospital, and they barely managed to save him. So now I watch him day and night to make sure he won't pull something like that again..."

_"What?! You said you believed me-"_

_"Stop bothering me, I'm on the phone._ But, like you heard, he's feeling guilty about it, which is nice. As far as I am concerned, we can manage without you perfectly well," Sing says in a reserved tone. "But that moron clearly wants you here, so think of his offer, okay? I never saw him smiling the way he did a moment ago when you picked up..."

_"Sing, you're the biggest boor in the world! Have you ever heard of something called 'discretion'?! Even if I let you move in, it doesn't give you any right to decide for me!"_

"Just think of it," the boy repeats his reluctant request. "Only remember that young master is filthy rich so demand a proper pay. Though, like I said, I'd manage by myself. I don't need you here."

"Sing, there's no need to be jealous of me," Sergei says and only then wonders about these words that came to him naturally when listening to the young Chinese.

"I'm not!" he hears in reply, and then there's noise on the line.

"I'm sorry for him," Yue-lung speaks in the receiver again. "He left, so whatever you told him worked." He falls silent for a longer while before saying, "I didn't want that this conversation look like this..."

"Did you really... try to hurt yourself?" Sergei asks.

The silence is a sufficient answer. Sergei feels like sighing. He wants to ask Yue-lung about what happened, but it's not something to talk on the phone about - but then, when would be the good occasion?

"Did you get a psychiatric consultation in the hospital?"

"I ran away before it. I mean, I asked to be discharged. But I'm all right already."

Sergei suppresses another sigh. No way Yue-lung is all right, but if the boy feels so, that's good enough. He tries to process what he's learned during this strange three-party conversation and recalls the words from the beginning of it.

"You think that Sing will feel better if I work for you?" he asks in the most neutral tone he can summon.

"I'm certain of it!" the level of hope in Yue-lung's voice increases at once. "I really have no intention of doing... something like that again... but it seems he doesn't believe me, of course. Then, if something can be done so that he doesn't need to worry about me so much... it would be good."

Sergei does his best to find a false note in his words, but he just can't hear it. Just like earlier he happened to see that part of Yue-lung the boy didn't normally show - maybe he even didn't realize it was there - now too he is sure that the young mafia boss speaks honestly.

However, he's not ready to make a decision and declare it yet. "Young master, I'll call you within three days to give you my answer, is it all right?" he says.

"Of course it is," Yue-lung replies brightly. "I'll be waiting for your call. Bye!"

Sergei hangs up, goes back onto the porch and puts his elbows on the railing. He realizes that the dejection that has been accompanying him for several weeks is gone. The talk with the two Chinese was so unusual that it made him snap out of the lethargy. When death and loss dominated his mind, Yue-lung and Sing reminded him of him life... and it felt good.

He didn't ask if Yue-lung found a person he needed in Sing; it seems obvious to him, given that the young mafia boss doesn't wish to burden the even younger boy more he already had. And then there's Sing, who is ready to carry that burden without asking anyone's help; his concern is evident. They are certainly a strange couple, but Sergei thinks it may be exactly what makes their bond strong.

Staring at a lush green of the garden that he can't really see, he once more realizes that Yue-lung and Sing are still kids who have only each other. Sergei left them with responsibility they are trying to bear now... although they should pass it to an adult. He finally lets himself feel ashamed because of that and admits his decision was wrong, that time in spring when he bid them goodbye, washing his hands of them. He finally is ready to start to correct that mistake, as he still can... as it's still not too late.

When he decides it, he feels lighter at heart. He wanted to never again get attached to anyone in order to never fear of losing them... but now he can't resist the impression that perhaps human beings are not made to live alone, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's my favourite chapter so far :D I had fun writing it, and I laugh every time I read it, which is a good thing for any author ^^ Ah, I suppose (am not sure, though) that Yue and Sing talked Chinese whenever alone, so let's decide that Blanca, being an extremely gifted in many, many fields, was also talented in languages, so learning Chinese would be a piece of cake to him xD I can totally see it.


	12. Chapter 12

The decision about moving into Yue-lung's is spontaneous and instinctive, as many Soo-ling's decisions. He gets a message, 'It's the right thing to do,' that he believes fully. It's only later that he asks himself if it is proper for a street kid to impose himself on a young aristocrat, but it happens after Yue-lung simply nodded without any visible intention of objecting, so wondering about it now is pointless.

It's concern, fear, guilt and pride that motivate him, in this particular order. He isn't exactly _scared_ about Yue-lung trying to kill himself again, rather generally concerned about a welfare of a mentally unstable person he cares about, so it's fear that results from care. As for feeling of guilt and pride... Well, for Lee Yue-lung, Sing Soo-ling seems to be essential to life, to say with a bit of exaggeration, and this realization stirs more positive emotions than negative ones. Like he concluded in the hospital, Yue-lung deserves to experience some good, and if Soo-ling can somehow contribute to it, then he will gladly... especially after his actions almost caused a tragedy. Soo-ling realizes there's a bit of conceit in what he does, too, but he's actually glad about it. He's never really planned to be an angel who thinks only of others. Probably.

Of course, he's concerned about how the move will affect his leading a gang, but he quickly decides that it's only a temporary solution - he has no intention of living with Yue-lung for the rest of his life - and besides... During the last weeks, he's been spending here a lot of time anyway, so it won't be much different. Yet, he's quite relieved with Blanca's possible return. That guy has a salutary impact on Yue-lung, so it can be presumed that in his presence that fool not only won't get any funny ideas into his head, but he will also feel better. As for the fighting skills of the bodyguard, there's no need to mention them at all; Soo-ling saw him in action and is perfectly certain that Blanca is exceptionally talented.

He returns to what the man told him... and realizes that he _may_ be a bit jealous, indeed. Then he quickly tells himself nobody can expect him to equal a guy who is at least twice his age and probably a former soldier or another commando. Blanca - he doubt it's his real name - must have been doing a warfare before Soo-ling was born already. When his age, Soo-ling won't be any worse. Jealousy or not, it would be good to have the guy keep an eye on that moron they got as a syndicate leader.

Currently, the moron syndicate leader stopped sulking about Soo-ling's interfering with his talk with Blanca; the contrary, he appears all happy (in his own version), so apparently Blanca gave him a confirmative reply. Good, at least he's not moping in the corner or throwing the glasses. Soo-ling noticed it some time ago that in Yue-lung's case good mood translates to activity and focus.

"Where would you like to stay?" young master asks.

"What about here?"

"In the living-room? Don't be a fool, there's plenty of rooms."

"What problem do you have with me sleeping on a couch? I'm not going to sit here all the time. I have a gang to lead."

"It's you who decided to move in," Yue-lung reminds him with a frown. "How can I know what you plan to do here?"

"Spend more time with you."

Yue-lung opens his mouth and then closes it. He stares at him in silence before looking away. "Sleep where you want," he mutters in reply, which convinces Soo-ling that the method of direct pressure works. The next moment Yue-lung says in a flat voice, though, "But keep away from my bathroom! The nearest one is in the end of the corridor."

Soon, Soo-ling learns that sleeping here was much more complicated he could ever expect. Couch or not couch, in the evening he falls asleep as soon as his head touches the pillow, but he wakes up in the middle of the night and tries to understand why. The sounds coming from adjacent bedroom indicate that Yue-lung has a nightmare. Soo-ling jumps to his feet and wants to go and wake him up, but in the doorway he remembers that Yue-lung hates being touched.

It appears, however, that opening the door was enough - the guy is really a very light sleeper - as moaning and muffled cries turn into quick breathing and the rustle shows that Yue-lung sat up.

"I planned on waking you up," Soo-ling speaks in order to not startle him even more. "You were having a nightmare."

Yue-lung tries to get his breathing under control. "Of course I was," he finally replies in a tired voice. "I always have when I sleep without pills."

"You may forget about pills for now," Soo-ling announces, although it makes him sound like a bad guy here.

Yue-lung says nothing, takes several deep breaths and lies down again. "I didn't want to wake you up," he says. "Go back to sleep, it... Maybe it won't happen again."

Soo-ling goes back to the living-room, but he stops with his hand on the handle. "Do you want me to leave the door open?" he asks. "Just slightly ajar."

"Like hell I want. You want to make sure I don't sleep at all, or what?"

"It's not like I'm going to rape you."

"I know that. You already made it clear you wouldn't touch me even with a stick, thank you."

"Geez, you're still sulking about that? I told you what annoyed me then: that you consider yourself like some kind of... transaction. I don't like it."

"Then what would you like me to consider myself?"

Soo-ling remains silent. He didn't expect that question.

"Sing?" he hears. "If you don't tell me, I won't be able to sleep," Yue-lung says in the familiar tone of a complaint.

"And you will if I tell you?" Soo-ling replies without thinking. It's only the next moment he realizes how it sounded. "I mean... I want that you treat yourself well, normally. Respect and value yourself. Treat yourself like a human."

Silence is the only answer.

"Try to get some sleep," he says in the end and goes back onto the coach. He leaves the door slightly ajar.

* * *

The next night Yue-lung wakes up with a scream again, and again there's Sing in the door. "That's why I wanted that you slept somewhere else..."

"You didn't mention that!" Sing says with reproach.

Yue-lung turns the lamp on. "Come," he says, showing the armchair. "It's going to repeat every night," he declares when Sing sat down, without looking at him. "I don't want you to stay awake because of me."

"Don't worry about me," comes the immediate answer. "I can fall asleep anywhere anytime."

Yue-lung smiles; by now, he knows it well.

"Is it really like that every night?" Sing speaks again, hesitation and curiosity mixing in his voice... with something else.

"As long as I can remember," Yue-lung replies, exhausted.

"Then, I don't wonder anymore that you're so peevish every day," Sing states, and there's no malice to his words. "Is there any way to remedy it?" he asks the next moment, always looking into the future and out for a solution.

"The pills help."

"I asked how to make those nightmares end for good."

Yue-lung looks at him with a frown. It's never crossed his mind that the nightmares could end; he's pretty sure they will continue all his life.

Sing keeps staring at him. "Well?"

"I don't know," he answers with a shrug.

"You can't be the only man in the world suffering from the nightmares. You should ask some specialist."

"You're suggesting there's something wrong with my head?"

Now Sing gives him a look of a pure disbelief. "It's always been," he replies in a tone stating the obvious. "Right, you should talk to a shrink."

"I don't need any shrinks."

"Then, who do you need?"

Yue-lung keeps silent.

"In any case, I am here. And maybe Blanca will be, too," Sing says in a voice that sounds snooty in Yue-lung's ears.

He lies down and pulls the cover over his head. "Get out and let me sleep."

"With pleasure."

* * *

The third night, Yue-lung surprises Soo-ling with a question, "Why are you so nice to me?"

They sit in the bedroom again: Yue-lung on the bed, and he in the armchair. The lamp on the nightstand gives pleasant light. For some reason, this very moment this room seems to be the safest place in the world, a place where everything can be said without fear it could be used against you. Soo-ling has started to get used to these night talks already.

"You think I'm nice? Well, compared with how _you_ treat me..."

"Sing, I'm serious."

"Maybe because it doesn't seem to me you've met many people who treated you well, young master. Am I right?"

"It doesn't explain anything."

No? Well, maybe not. Soo-ling returns to the question itself to think over it. "Don't you think I simply treat you _normally?_ " he asks after a moment. "You think I'm nice to you, but it doesn't say a thing about me, only you. You got used to animosity, don't you?" 'Especially that you do your best to provoke it,' he adds in thought. "And that's why you're surprised when somebody doesn't show you any. You're so twisted, you do realize that?"

Yue-lung keeps silent. He seems terribly exhausted, his hair is a mess, but his eyes are focused, so his brain is working intensively. Finally, he nods. "But I didn't consider you nice before," he says. "Quite the contrary."

"That too says something about you, not me," Soo-ling insists. "I haven't changed."

Now Yue-lung shakes his head. "No. You are _nicer_."

"Okay, maybe a bit," Soo-ling admits.

"Why?"

He feels like sighing. He looks away, but then his eyes return to the figure on the bed right away. Yue-lung is staring at him and clearly desires his answer... desires it as if his life depended on it, and Soo-ling realizes that if he wants to be honest - also with himself - then it is the right time and place. He remembers the talk from the last spring when the only thing he could feel for Yue-lung was the desperate wish to not hate him.

"Would you believe me if I told you that, at some point, I started to like you?"

Yue-lung doesn't answer; he keeps staring at him with his eyebrows knitted as if he's thinking of it. That question... that doubt in that questions is based on two things: that Yue-lung doesn't like himself and that he cannot really accept any positive comment about himself. Suddenly, Soo-ling feels he wants to change it. He hopes he can change it. If not him, then who else?

"At least, I know that much," Yue-lung speaks again, slowly, "that you're someone _capable_ of liking others."

Soo-ling smiles as that half-answer is more he expected.

"I like you," he repeats. "Just like that."


	13. Chapter 13

Blanca called on the third day, said he agreed to work as his bodyguard and informed of his arrival in New York this Saturday. He listed his conditions, the most significant being the length of the contract: until the end of year, but with the possibility of extension. Yue-lung can't call himself happy, as he considers himself someone basically unhappy, so he decides he is _satisfied_. Blanca here and not in the Caribbean fills him with satisfaction, with feeling everything is finally like it should. As for the short length of the contract... He's going to convince Blanca to stay longer.

On Saturday, Yue-lung is so spirited and enthusiastic that he wants to go to the airport, but he lets himself be persuaded into staying home and receiving the guest here. Since the day he got the reply, he can't stop smiling and, generally, is under the impression he could fly. Sing stares at him with increasing exasperation, sometimes rolling his eyes or snorting in displeasure. Sometimes he says, 'You act like an infatuated girl,' or, 'You've gone totally nuts,' or, 'You really have a thing for such giants?' Yue-lung is in too fine a mood to care about it, and he only occasionally retorts that Sing has no idea what he's talking about or is simply jealous. Every mention of jealousy makes Sing even more annoyed, which usually ends their fights. Until the next time.

In fact, Yue-lung doesn't know himself why Blanca is so important to him. At first, he just wanted to take him from Ash, but later... Later it no longer mattered. Blanca makes Yue-lung feel not only safe but also good with himself. Blanca is someone who doesn't want or need anything from him; to Yue-lung, presence of someone like that is a positive message saying he's not the most wretched man in the world. And despite Yue-lung having been perfectly okay with his own wickedness for years, the last months made him realize that maybe he wished for something else, after all.

When Blanca finally appears in the front door with the escort sent to pick him at the airport, Yue-lung has the impression emotions are going to make him explode any moment. In the last fifteen minutes, he couldn't quite stay in place, approached the window all the time, until Sing got sick of it and ostentatiously went upstairs.

"Young master, I'm glad to see you well," Blanca says after the greetings. "Did anything good happen?" he asks, apparently referring to the smile on Yue-lung's face.

"It did," he replies truthfully. "You."

Blanca gives him that gentle and slightly abashed smile of his.

It is only now that Yue-lung realizes his joy may be too forward. "Do you think I'm too bold?" he asks with a frown.

"I think you're honest," Blanca replies. "And that there's nothing wrong about it."

Yue-lung looks away. "I want to be honest with _you_ ," he says quietly.

"And with Sing?" Blanca asks for some reason.

"With Sing, there's no other option, as he can see right through me," Yue-lung says in an ever lower voice.

"Good," Blanca states and seem satisfied.

After a dinner - Yue-lung beaming and Sing quite the contrary - Blanca asks for a private conversation. However, instead of talking about the contract, he asks, "How are you feeling?"

Yue-lung is astonished. "Fine. Normal."

Blanca sighs. "Excuse my impudence, but I don't think that someone who tried to kill himself a week ago could be fine."

Yue-lung goes pale and averts his eyes. "It's no point recalling that now," he says quietly.

"Would you like to tell me what happened?" Blanca insists.

"I didn't employ you as my therapist."

"Are you sure?"

Yue-lung glances at him and observes him for a moment before looking away again.

"You said you want to be honest with me," Blanca reminds him his own words from before.

"But everything is fine now, really," Yue-lung says, his fingers clutching at the fabric of his trousers.

"Then, you overdosed the drugs only for show? To have your way... with Sing, perhaps?"

"I didn't!" Yue-lung didn't even notice when he jumped up from the armchair and clenched his fists.

" _Now_ you were honest," Blanca says with approval.

Yue-lung sits down again; he puts his elbows on his knees and rests his forehead on his hands. "It wasn't for show," he says in a low voice, almost whispering. "I really wanted..."

And then he starts to talk. About the recent and old events. About nightmares and emptiness. About fear of closeness and being touched. About apathy that has lessened a bit in the last weeks but still lingers just outside his field of vision. About hatred, for others and himself.

He doesn't talk about two people making him like himself, just a bit. About that in the last few days he's smiled more than during half of his life. About night talks with Sing and that occasional urge to touch him. About hope that he thought he'd buried inside long ago and yet managed to find again. He doesn't tell about it, and yet it seems to him Blanca knows it all.

But when Blanca asks, "What do you wish? What would you like to change about your life?", he can't answer that. "I don't want to change it. I want things to be as they are now," he whispers, and the look Blanca gives him is so full of sympathy he suddenly feels like crying.

He gets angry; he doesn't want to get emotional in Blanca's presence. He rises and goes to the window, although he can't really see what's outside.

"You are strong," he hears Blanca's voice after a moment of silence. He feels like snorting to that statement because he doesn't feel strong at all. He feels like a twisted tree that can barely stand and fears of another blow of wind. "You're strong because you have survived all that and you keep living. And as long as you live, you can experience some good."

"You talk like Sing."

"Well, Sing may be the wisest man in your surroundings."

Yue-lung wants to snort again, and again he refrains himself from doing so, as he know Blanca is right.

"In fact, someone with that background would need years of therapy to recover, but maybe it's enough... How did you put it... That there's no change. That everything continued like now."

Yue-lung keeps looking outside; he still can't see a thing outside. He nods.

"And that it gets better. Just like it's better now than it was half a year ago, right?" Blanca says.

Yue-lung turns to him. "I remember _why_ I asked you to come back," he says. His voice is calm again.

"Good. Then, now I must talk with him."

* * *

Soo-ling knows he's sulking. He apparently caught it from the whimsical princess, and he hasn't been living here even a week yet... He's standing by the wall with his arms folded and is giving Blanca a look clearly saying he isn't happy to see him. And that, actually, it would be best if they meet as rarely as possible.

"Sing, you asked me to come here yourself," Blanca says with a sheepish smile.

"It doesn't mean I'm glad you're here."

"There's really no need to be jea-"

"I'm not jealous!"

"And you shouldn't be. How tall is your father?"

Soo-ling blinks in astonishment. How did his father happen in this conversation? "He was almost 6 ft 3 in."

"That's the first thing," Blanca says in a voice of having proved something. "The second is... You have more talent than I. I mean your battle skills. When I was your age, I have just got to the military academy, but you already have a real battle experience, and of several years."

Soo-ling keeps silent; he only stares at Blanca suspiciously.

"And the third thing is... I didn't come here to compete with you," that manipulator continues. "It's the opposite: I want that you and I cooperate."

"On what matter?"

"On helping young master Yue-lung's psychological recovery, at least a bit."

Now Soo-ling is so astonished that he lets his arms fall and takes a step closer. "Why?"

"Oh, that was pretty silly question," Blanca says, wincing. "Sing, you're too wise for that."

"Why would you care about it?" Soo-ling qualifies.

Blanca keeps silent for a moment. "Now that question was too direct," he finally replies.

"Well I am direct. I consider it a virtue," Soo-ling states.

"And so you should," Blanca visibly suppresses his smile. "Young master Yue-lung is suffering from chronic depressive disorder with recurrent episodes and posttraumatic stress disorder. Actually, he qualifies for a long-term psychiatric treatment, but we can forget about it... at least about any conventional therapy."

"You speak like you knew that stuff."

"I know this staff. I have a degree in psychology and was trained in psychiatry as well."

Soo-ling opens his eyes wide; he didn't expect such revelations. He wants to ask where in the world the soldiers are educated as psychologists... He focuses on the topic. "If the conventional therapy is out of question... then what are we talking about?" he asks.

"I think you've already got the idea," Blanca says with a smile.

Soo-ling averts his eyes, only to look at him again the next moment. "To stay with him...?"

Blanca nods. "Why did he try to kill himself?" he asks another question Soo-ling didn't expect.

"He thought I hated him," he answers right away, though.

"He needs you. And he knows about it. Just like he needs me, at least for some time. It's good he's aware of it."

Soo-ling glowers at him before folding his arms again. "I don't know what he sees in you," he mutters with hostility and, when Blanca opens his mouth, adds quickly, "I'm not jealous!"

"In that case, just think about it. Did he ever have anyone he could feel safe around and could trust? Someone who treated him well and with respect? Every boy needs an adult man in his life for a support."

"You're trying to say you are... I don't know, like a big brother? A father to him?"

"Why, you couldn't possibly think he's in love with me?" Blanca asks, raising his eyebrows, clearly amused.

Soo-ling says nothing. Actually, that is what he thought... but what Blanca says makes more sense, indeed.

"Besides... I'm going to stay here only for a short while, contrary to you."

Soo-ling remembers why he asked the guy to come here, himself; he remembers that instinctive wish that Yue-lung kept smiling. He realizes it's time to stop sulking and start acting like a man. He nods, comes closer and stretches his hands. "Fine, I'll cooperate."

Blanca shakes his hand, appreciation in his gaze. This time Soo-ling feels they are two conspirers. The thought of them conspiring against Yue-lung - and, in fact, for his benefit - makes him finally smile, too.


	14. Chapter 14

The next weeks are such an idyll that Soo-ling alternately fears it's just a wonderful dream he's going to wake up from any moment... and wishes that the old whimsical Yue-lung comes back. Yue-lung is on his best behavior, never letting his temper speak up again; he seems like the most polite young man in the world and shows his greatest assets: his bright mind and ability to put ideas into action. That change is so drastic that it's almost unbelievable. If Soo-ling didn't see him like that before, he would suspect Yue-lung was replaced... and if he occasionally didn't see how the facade of a well-mannered aristocrat fades to reveal that uncertain, unstable and hurting boy who can't escape his past. Those moments happen mostly at night and amongst the nightmares, although sometimes, maybe twice a week, Yue-lung is able to sleep calmly until morning.

Soo-ling is amazed that a single person can cause such a change. Blanca seems to be an adhesive tape keeping together all those fragments Yue-lung consists of. What is even more amazing, it appears that simply Blanca's _presence_ does a trick. Soo-ling was certain that Yue-lung would stick to the guy and won't ever let go of him, would bother him day and night and demand his whole attention; he was terribly mistaken. In fact it's like those two just stay in the same house but have different lives... like family members, he concludes. Sure, Yue-lung and Blanca see each other every day, eat together and talk a lot - in Sing's opinion, the behavior the bodyguard displays then clearly exceeds limits of politeness, respect and devotion one should have for their master - but they spend time apart, too, when Yue-lung takes care of the syndicate business in his study and Blanca reads in the library. It seems to be enough for Yue-lung. It's unbelievable... and very annoying.

Soo-ling is jealous, although he admits it rarely, even to himself... but the more he hears it, the more he believes it. He's jealous that Blanca's mere presence is so important to Yue-lung, clearly more meaningful than Soo-ling's active efforts. Then again, he isn't that bothered about it because he both understands that jealousy is sign of immaturity, and remembers the main reason why Blanca is here. He often recalls the conversation the two of them had after Blanca's arrival, and the more time passes the clearer is that the guy was right when speaking of Yue-lung's need for a responsible and safe adult... yeah, someone like a father. Now it's obvious to Soo-ling that Yue-lung has no... um, romantic feelings for Blanca, and after the initial enthusiasm and delight resulting from the guy's return his behavior turned into warm daily politeness.

Soo-ling wonders what is his role... and if _his_ presence matters. He's afraid of being pushed in the background, and it probably has something to do with his pride and ambition; after all, he made a conscious decision of supporting Yue-lung and a kind of took responsibility for his well-being. Of course he would like to see to it by himself, and if not by himself then he'd like to be a _main_ factor. It's true that Blanca every now and then gives him a thumb up - does that old man want to appear cool or what? - as if trying to show he recognizes his good job, but Soo-ling feels awfully in his shadow nonetheless. Yet, whenever it occurs to him to regret having asked Blanca to come, it's enough that he remembers Yue-lung's smile... and the regret is gone.

He's got terribly attached to that fool.

Then again, owing to the situation being under control _here_ , Soo-ling can concentrate on what happens in the streets, and quite a lot does happen there. The Vietnamese, after the cold shower they received in the beginning of the summer, kept quiet for some time but then started to act up again, clearly hell-bent on maintaining their influences in the Chinatown. Soo-ling has no mercy for them and aims at the decisive confrontation. The Chinese, whose morale was strengthened by the victory over the Arabs, have focused their actions on the Vietnamese and put constant pressure on them awaiting the enemy to finally break.

In the late summer, the leader of the Vietnamese makes an unexpected offer. He wants to meet Soo-ling in private in neutral territory and talk. In his message, he states he recognizes the talented leader of the Chinese gang and understands that prolonging the conflict would mean increasing losses on his side without any chance of victory. As a token of goodwill and a guarantee, he sends two people and the Vietnamese cease activities in the Chinatown forthwith.

When Soo-ling talks about it with Yue-lung, the syndicate leader senses a trap and warns against accepting the offer. Soo-ling, however, wants at least to think it over, as he understands the reason behind it: the Chinese have a clear advantage and fighting, if continued, will end in a massacre of the Vietnamese. The closer the day of meeting draws, the more Soo-ling is inclined to accept the proposal, hoping to solve the conflict in another way than wiping the enemy off the face of the earth.

"You're going to play a hero again," Yue-lung says with displeasure, although his voice is calm. "Don't lower your guard. Remember what happened last time?"

"Sure I do," Soo-ling retorts. "Everything was going well and I had the situation under control until you decided to butt in and spoil the day."

Yue-lung looks at him with offence but doesn't let himself be provoked. "You're going to play a hero," he repeats. "What about being a responsible leader? If you go into a trap, what's going to happen to the gang?"

"You're paranoid, you see enemies everywhere."

Yue-lung raises his eyebrows before knitting them. "It's not paranoia, it's common sense," he says. "You didn't answer the question."

"It's responsible to put myself at risk, not my people."

"Sing, you're too important," Yue-lung says in exasperation.

"We have hostages! You think it isn't the sufficient guarantee?"

Slowly, Yue-lung shakes his head. "I would have them shot as the first if they were used as a shield," he replies.

"You're making me sick," Soo-ling states, but Yue-lung only shrugs.

It's one of those situations when Soo-ling realizes that the two of them will never share the same view on some matters. He can't think like Yue-lung, who sees people only as tools. In moments like this, it's easy to believe that he, too, is just a pawn for the head of the syndicate.

On the other hand, he realizes that honor and decency are not the easiest way in the underworld, where it's rather lies and deceit moving people around. Yue-lung may be right; all that may be a plot to remove the leader of the Chinese. However, Soo-ling feels he wants to take that risk, and it's only the preceding evening that he realizes why.

He remembers Ash, who entered the trap, defeated a whole gang by himself and emerged victorious. It's probably that action when his respect for Ash was born and never died. If Soo-ling hopes to come anywhere near Ash's level, he must be ready to walk into the ambush. He doesn't listen to the voice in his head reminding him that Ash Lynx is dead, maybe because it sounds strangely like Yue-lung...

* * *

They never learned if the offer made by Vietnamese was a trap or not. Well, it surely was, but in a different way anyone could suspect. The night before the meeting of the two gang leaders, the Vietnamese - taking advantage of the Chinese having lowered their guard - launch a surprise attack on the Chinatown. The tables have turned and now it's the Chinese who must defend themselves against the massacre. Yue-lung's reinforcements come as quickly as possible to push away the enemy, but by that time Sing's many men are dead.

Sing rises to the challenge and, despite the grave situation, orders a counterattack, supported by Yue-lung's private army. He isn't motivated solely by revenge; his decision is also strategic as the enemy doesn't expect it and the last weeks clearly weakened them. The risk paid off and this night the final victory goes to the Chinese, the Vietnamese being completely destroyed, but it comes at a huge price.

Sing holds up well during the whole action, using his full fighting capacity, but when it's over, he clearly has no idea what to do. Yue-lung must drag him into the car as it seems Sing lost all mental strength that kept him in the reality. He doesn't even care about his - fortunately mild - injuries.

Yue-lung takes him home to have him examined by a doctor, to give him something to drink, to make him safe. They sit in the living-room, turned into Sing's bedroom, in silence, and Yue-lung finds it hard to believe that only the last evening, when they talked for the last time, the situation was completely different. It's hard to believe that boy in front of him is Sing. The gang leader is sitting on the opposite coach hunched, his gaze is absent, and there's no emotion on his face; it seems he isn't here at all. Physically, he's just tired and has a few slight injuries, but Yue-lung knows well that bodily wounds can't be compared with those of the soul. Yet, he can't do anything about it, so he offers only the help for the body.

"Try to get some sleep," he finally says when it starts to dawn outside. "You must rest. It's over. We won."

Sing nods, but his lips curve. "We won..." he repeats with irony. "That's all that matters, right?"

Yue-lung remains silent and keeps observing him. He can tell that his words scratched the mask. He is tempted to break it altogether, but he's even more scared to do it because he doesn't know what would be the final effect. It appears, however, that a light pressure is enough.

"You call it a victory?" Sing speaks. "It's a failure... _my_ failure. It's all my fault. It wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been so naive. You were right all the time. You can laugh at me now...!" he throws with aggression, but his eyes fill with tears. He covers his face with his hand. "Well? Laugh me down! I'm naive... and weak..."

But Yue-lung doesn't laugh and has no intention of doing so. "Sing, you're not weak," he says, trying to remain calm. "Everything can be said about you, but not that you're weak."

Sing bites his lips and presses his fists in his eyes as if doesn't wish to see the world again. Yue-lung looks at him, trying to figure out all those emotions that view stirs in him, so many of them, making him restless and so tense he can barely sit. First he experiences feelings of objection and reluctance because he doesn't like the picture and wants it to disappear. He wants back that Sing he knows from their daily interactions and conversations, that confident, vigorous and future-oriented Sing, who can put him straight if needed. He doesn't want that broken and weighed down by his guilt kid who seems to have lost all purpose and sense, and everything that was driving him... who doesn't seem to care about Lee Yue-lung as if he's pushed him outside his life and perception. Who seems weak.

But Yue-ling told Sing he isn't weak because he really thinks so. Those tears and that imminent weeping don't come from weakness only his very essence as Sing is the most straightforward, honest and... _good_ man Yue-lung has ever known. And despite such traits not fitting the criminal world, Yue-lung realizes that it's only for them that Sing is even here. If Sing had been a cold bastard and ruthless killer - if he couldn't feel for, care for and like people - then Yue-lung would have continued in his living nightmares, hating everything and everyone and wishing only for his own demise. If Sing had been like everyone, then after slapping him last spring he wouldn't have asked, "Are you okay?", and that conversation would have been the final one.

And although Yue-lung himself is exactly that cold bastard who doesn't care about anyone and doesn't hesitate about killing people, he would never want Sing to become like this, too, because Sing is a light in the dark, and once you saw the light, you never want to go back in dark again. There's nothing but nightmares there. Sing is warmth that drives the cold of night away and gives life. An although just yesterday Yue-lung criticized him openly, calling his candidness a naivety, now he feels he must... _wants_ to protect that good in Sing at any cost so that it never disappears.

He wants to protect Sing.

For the first time in his life, he thinks he understands Ash, who was ready to pay any price to protect Eiji. This discovery disconcerts him, distresses him to such an extent he suddenly doesn't know what to do... but it doesn't make the feeling itself fade. It's the opposite: it grows stronger with every passing moment, swirling and gnawing inside, clenching his throat and making him tremble all over. However, unlike the nightmares and panic attacks, it doesn't weaken him only gives strength and urges to act.

Scenes and words from the last months rush through his mind, 'I'm here, I wil stay, I care, I like you,' - so many words, all creating a message, 'I am here, everything will be fine.' That promise, both verbal and nonverbal, repeated often enough so that he wouldn't forget, has helped him go through the days and sometimes even driven the nightmares away. It's like a warm blanket that envelopes him and gives shape, draws borders but never restraints. Promise to be there. Only that and so much to bring him back from the hell of solitude and to the reality.

He doesn't even notice when he gets up, crosses the room and stops next to Sing; he acts instinctively, as it is what he's wanted all that time. He sits down, but it's still too little, as there's one more border to breach. His hand is trembling - no, he's trembling all over, prepared for being hit and pushed back - but he musters all his courage to touch Sing's hunched back and convey the message, 'I am here.'

Sing twitches under his touch - Yue-lung does the same - then turns his head and looks at him with reddened eyes. For a moment, he focuses his gaze, trying to understand what's happening... and then a first clear emotion appears on his face, and it is astonishment. Yue-lung averts his eyes and withdraws his arm. He's unable to say anything, feels like getting up and running away, but at the same time it seems to him that, maybe for the first time in his life, he's done the right thing.

Sing wipes his face with his sleeve. "I must be in a very bad shape if I need you, of all people, to comfort me," he mutters. "Thanks," he adds even more quietly.

And Yue-lung only nods in response to that acknowledgement, for he still can't utter a word. It's only in his thought that he asks, 'Never change.'


	15. Chapter 15

Attachment that Yue-lung finally acknowledged fills him with terror. His life has hammered it into his head that attachment means weakness and should be avoided at all cost. Yue-lung tries to tell himself that it's his own egoism that drives him, that it's only about the beneficial influence Sing's presence has on his mood - it's nothing new, he's discovered it before - but he can't forget that concern, that genuine urge to help that overtook him when witnessing Sing's distress. So he's scared and aware he should at once go back to that rough manner and brusque treatment... but it's something he cannot do either. Sing is still dejected, and Yue-lung just can't bring himself to criticize him or even talk badly... which only makes him certain about his own feelings.

He's grown attached to Sing and wants Sing to feel good. He doesn't want to worsen his mood.

The more time passes, the more upset he is by that discovery and the more convinced it's real... and the more he realizes he's not going to reject it. That is because despite all those difficult, bordering on fear emotions, there's also something very nice and warmth in being concerned about Sing. Something that causes a funny feeling in his chest, one he wants to experience again and again. That feeling is much easier to accept than the concern itself, as it's perfectly new thing for Lee Yue-lung.

Over the next week, Sing hardly ever comes 'home'; he's of the opinion his place is now with the gang. He sleeps in his old flat in the Chinatown; his visits in Yue-lung's are rare and short. Suddenly devoid of his presence, Yue-lung is completely thrown off balance. He realizes they spent a lot of time together, simply living in the same place. He can't focus on anything, unconsciously waits to hear the motorcycle outside the window and sleeps poorly again. Finally, he can no longer bear it and, the next time Sing visits him, he says in a demanding voice, "Take me to the Chinatown."

Sing looks at him with a frown. Yue-lung sees fatigue on his face and dejection in his eyes. Like always, Sing does his best leading the gang, but his typical energy is gone, and Yue-lung tries not to think it could be the definite change. He is overcome by the wish to make Sing feel better, snap him out of that apathy, engage his mind, and despite knowing he's the worst candidate for that task. Or maybe not? He could do it his way. Over that week, frustration due to Sing's absence made his initial consideration weaken.

"Like... How should I take you? What for?" Sing asks.

"I want to see what's the current situation there."

Sing's frown gets even deeper. "Now?"

"Tomorrow is quite fine. I'll have time to prepare myself."

* * *

They decide on tomorrow at noon. At first, Soo-ling is reluctant about Yue-lung's demand - he's busy enough with other things - but, in the end, he agrees as he has no reason to refuse. He has no idea why it occurred to Yue-lung to visit the Chinatown right now, but on the other hand now is better than before. And, in fact, there's nothing strange about the head of the syndicate wanting to see with his own eyes what's the atmosphere in the town. Maybe Soo-ling could even persuade him to have a word with the guys... but the idea of Yue-lung giving a motivating speech is so abstract he abandons it the next moment. But what are his plans, then? Soo-ling forgot to ask... but, well, it's all the same.

When he arrives in the residence, Blanca is already downstairs, ready to leave. Like always, he's wearing that polite smile of his, one he can hide any secret behind. Soo-ling, however, is too numb to be bothered by the commando-bodyguard's behavior. It seems to him that dejection that had been accompanying him for a week just won't leave. He can't quite imagine anything that might pull him out of it...

When Yue-lung appears on the stairs, Soo-ling comes to a hysterical conclusion he's overestimated his own imagination; at the same time, his annoyance rockets into the upper levels. "What the hell are doing?!" he shouts without thinking.

Yue-lung doesn't seem to care about his reaction, as he calmly walks down the stairs. He's wearing a purple dress and a make-up, and his hair is pinned up.

Soo-ling shuts his eyes, hoping it's just a dream, but the vision won't go. "What's the meaning of this?" he asks once he became convinced it's really happening, unfortunately.

"It will be easier for me to blend in this way," he gets the composed answer.

"You promised to wear normal clothes when going outside."

"I didn't promise anything. Besides... When was the last time you saw me like this?"

Soo-ling opens his mouth... and then closes it again. To tell the truth, he can't remember.

"The last spring," Yue-lung says, clearly reading his mind. "I didn't promise anything," he repeats, "but I did like you asked nonetheless. We certainly can make an exception, just this once. Actually... you really think someone could recognize me?"

Soo-ling remains silent and only keep glowering at him. It's true that Yue-lung isn't looking particularly flashy. His dress is plain, and he has no ornaments in his hair. Soo-ling would say he's looking like a normal, pretty girl... except that 'normal' doesn't quite apply to Lee Yue-lung, and he would rather die than say 'pretty' to him. He doesn't get any less annoyed, but when he's able to speak again, he can only deliver a meaningless comment, "No way I'm taking you on my motor."

So they take a car, and get out on the outskirts of the Chinatown to 'blend in', although it can't be said that they don't attract any attention at all. Soon, it appears that the syndicate leader had something entirely different in mind when speaking of having a look at the situation. First, they visit the market and examine the stalls and the sellers. Then they eat lunch in a small restaurant, chatting with the owner a bit. Then they round the shops, checking the supply situation. They even visit a temple, although neither of them considers himself a religious person.

Yue-lung seems to be enjoying himself, which can't be said about Soo-ling. They barely speak, but Soo-ling has never been so acutely aware of Yue-lung being there. He's annoyed and tense. He constantly fears that somebody blows Yue-lung's cover, or that they run into the guys from the gang, or he simply doesn't like being here. He's mad at Yue-lung for that idea, for that dress, for that play, and he feels more exhausted with every passing hour. This appointment engages his whole attention and demands his whole energy. He must resist the urge to grab Yue-lung and drag him back to the car, and end this torment.

In late afternoon, the street of Chinatown become very crowded, but Yue-lung still doesn't seem to have enough, still doesn't feel like going back. After they became separated in the crowd two times already, Soo-ling takes him by the hand; he absolutely cannot afford losing him here. Blanca keeps in the back all the time - as discreetly as possible for a man of his height - and close enough to react if needed, but Soo-ling doesn't believe they could be in any danger here.

The most dangerous situation takes place when they run into his mother...

"Soo-ling, you could sometimes show yourself at home," he suddenly hears the familiar voice around his right shoulder. "I haven't seen you several months, and now you even started dating. I'm glad you have a good taste. You must introduce your girlfriend to me. I'm Sing Shui, Soo-ling's mother, nice to meet you. Please come see me one day. Well son, I see you're not going to repeat your father's error; he believed to remain shrimp all his life and ended with me, tee-hee. You see, my dear, we got married when he was very young."

Soo-ling stares at the enthusiastic short figure who is shifting her eyes and attention between him and Yue-lung, and feels his ears are burning. It's only now that he realizes he's still holding Yue-lung's hands, so he lets go of it abruptly. "He's not a girl," he utters in the end.

"You didn't deny that 'friend' part," Yue-lung states in a low voice, covering his mouth with a sleeve, and there's laughter in his words. Then he approaches the woman and leans over her in a respectful manner. "I'll be happy to visit you one day, madam. Thank you for your kind invitation. Alas, I really am not a girl. Please, call me Yue."

Soo-ling sees confusion on his mother's face. "You're not a-"

"Come on, mom. It's just a camouflage," he says with exasperation. "We must go."

"I'm afraid we won't give you any grandchildren," Yue-lung adds in an apologetic voice.

"Shut up and come!" Soo-ling takes his hand and drags to the other side of the street, farther from his mother. Yue-lung follows him without resisting.

Soo-ling feels he's exhausted his patience for this day. "Don't you have enough already?" he asks the reason of his trouble in a hostile manner.

"Let's have a dinner before going home," Yue-lung suggests, still amused.

Upon 'going home', presently occupying the first place on Soo-ling's list of the most desire things, appearing in the conversation, Soo-ling decides he can agree to a dinner alright. The restaurant they go to is one of the best, and Yue-lung must be known here as they are immediately taken to the private booth and don't need to wait long for the meal. Soo-ling discovers that stress and irritation haven't taken his hunger, quite the contrary.

"Now I know where that vigor and enthusiasm of yours came from," Yue-lung speaks as they eat.

"I'm glad you didn't mention my height," Soo-ling mutters.

"Does she know you're in a gang?"

"Probably... though she never mentions it. Why do you think I come over there so rarely?"

"You should visit her more often," Yue-lung says. "You have only one mother."

"It's enough that she's safe. I'd rather have it this way than put her in danger."

Yue-lung remains silent but then smiles and raises his glass. "I'd accept her invitation. Or you think she would turn away your _boyfriend_ at once?"

Soo-ling shakes his head. "I'm sick of your jokes." Yue-lung focuses his gaze on him, and Soo-ling fixes his eyes on the plate. "Are you satisfied with how the Chinatown is?" he asks, trying to change the topic.

"I'm glad I came here."

Soo-ling says nothing. Once more, he comes to the conclusion that Yue-lung had fun. Apparently, he really enjoys dressing up and deceiving people. Actually, Soo-ling can't remember the last time - was there any, in the first place? - he saw him so... playful. Normally, his sense of humor is deeply hidden behind the irony and viciousness, but today there was some joy in his behavior, like he's cut himself off from the ordinary life and... yeah, had fun.

He realizes he's been so busy himself that he's forgot all about his troubles... and he doesn't really feel like thinking of them - the only benefit of this disastrous day. That and eating some good food; during the last week, eating was rather far down on the list of his priorities. It's with reluctance he thinks of getting in that mood again.

Yet, his annoyance is back at once when Yue-lung, upon the waiter's inquiry, says with a flirtatious smile, "What would you like to have next, dear?"

"Would you finally stop that?!"

Yue-lung suppresses a laugher and sends the waiter away. "It seems there's still some of your old self left. I hope you've been so angry today that it gives you energy for the whole next week. Why, we may repeat this if you want."

Soo-ling blinks in astonishment when he comprehends what he's just heard. Could it be that Yue-lung organized this performance for _him?_ Impossible, not Lee Yue-lung, who is self-absorption incarnated and the most egoistic man in the world. Much more likely he wanted to get even with Soo-ling for having been left alone for the whole week. Well, he wasn't even alone; he had his dear Blanca, who seems to be sufficient for his good mood.

But something in him keeps asking, "Is it really so?" He remembers that tragic night when Yue-lung obviously tried to comfort and support him. He ignored it because he wanted to forget that moment of weakness... and it's only now that he realizes something important happened. So, maybe Yue-lung planned this thing to shake him and... how he say it... restore him to his previous self...? Only he did it in his style.

He stares at Yue-lung so long that the syndicate leader averts his eyes. "But..." Soo-ling speaks finally, though he has no idea if he wants affirmation or negation or yet something else. "You can't deny you've had fun...? I can tell how happy you are, putting a dress on and going out to fool people.

Yue-lung shrugs; he still looks away. "Sure it was fun... but it's not why I've enjoyed it. I'm just glad I could spend some time with you," he says, sounding honest. Then he looks Soo-ling in the eye, and there's no smile on his face anymore, only concern and anxiety. "Sing, come home," he asks in a soft voice, and it's a real entreaty, not a demand.

And Soo-ling suddenly feels that rejecting it is beyond him. Maybe that anxiety, maybe that begging, maybe the word 'home'... they made his irritation vanish, replaced by the certainty what to do.

"Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the first half of the story is done. I plan to have Chapters 16-19 written within a week, but I can't promise I'll have enough time to translate them, because my free time got cut short a bit.  
> As for this chapter, the idea came from a sudden realisation that half of the story is done and the characters haven't even kissed! As you can tell, here they make a substantial progress in that matter: they hold hands xD


	16. Chapter 16

The situation is quite fine for some time, although Yue-lung feels more and more distressed by his attachment to Sing. Actually, it's not the emotion itself that bothers him, only the fact that Sing probably figured it out. During their little trip to the Chinatown, Yue-lung more or less admitted he both liked to spend time with Sing and had organized this event in order to cheer him up. When he kept that bond inside, everything was okay and under control, but now someone else - _Sing!_ \- knows about it... and Yue-lung considers it absolutely horrible. He's scared like hell of that bond being used against him, and telling himself that Sing isn't that kind of person who could betray him doesn't help at all. It's quite impossible to expect that several months of a relationship could make disappear what he followed for many, many years, right?

That Sing's attitude changed for the better - he became _nicer_ \- doesn't make things any easier. And what is a real torment for Yue-lung is that Sing started to observe him often, usually in silence. Yue-lung would give anything for his thought, and simultaneously he's afraid to know that; he believes Sing couldn't think anything good about him. Gradually, he reaches the stage of being unable to relax in Sing's presence altogether, of being constantly tense, and psychological balance he managed to achieve over the last months quickly deteriorates. Although he could pretty much control his temper during last summer and part of the spring, now he finds it utterly impossible. Their daily interactions and conversations begin to turn into quarrels, with Yue-lung getting almost hysterical. Sing's questions about the reason for his bad mood only worsen the situation and provoke even stronger angry outbursts.

However, when Sing is absent, Yue-lung feels even worse, so it can be said that during these weeks of the fall he's continuously oscillating between ever stronger desire to never let Sing out of his life again, and the aggression directed at him and feeling of guilt it causes. He comes to realize that he both wishes to have Sing all to himself, and that he's on the best way to lose him because of his actions. After every scene he made, he gots into panic, absolutely certain that this time Sing would have enough. After every 'Get out!', he's terrified Sing would understand it as the demand to leave this place. Oh, how Yue-lung beats himself up for revealing his feeling that day! If he'd checked himself, the situation between the two of them would be as it was for the whole summer: perfect.

In November, they both have their birthday, within just two weeks; Yue-lung turns eighteen and Sing sixteen. Yue-lung realizes that their respective behaviors rather indicates the opposite: he acts like a spoiled kid capable only of yelling, raging and throwing things. It's as if he were back to himself from the last spring, even though he believed it was well past him. Yet, all his decision about controlling himself better the next time are for naught; every time it's exactly the same. After several weeks of something like that, Yue-lung feels mentally exhausted, and his self-loathing has never been so strong as it is now. That and the growing feeling of hopelessness - resulting from the belief that everything will end in a disaster anyway because he's only learned how to destroy things - contribute to his bad psychological condition.

In the fall, they discover that Sing outgrew him; also, his voice starts to change. There is no doubt that Sing is on a good way to turn into an adult. Knowing that doesn't improve Yue-lung's mood; it's the opposite, he's ever more upset, impossible as it may seem. He got used to Sing the kid, and to think that kid will soon be replaced by someone new, someone unknown, disturbs him to no end. It shakes his sense of security and raises all these barriers he protected himself behind for years and only recently managed to lower a bit. It reminds him the words he said to Blanca in early summer: that he didn't want changes, that he wished everything stayed like it was. Now he can see it was an unrealistic dream, and he feels like the safe world he's managed to built is being torn to pieces. Even Blanca's presence can't help him, although with him he can still maintain civil contact.

* * *

It's one of Sergei's rule to never interfere with his employer's private life, unless it's absolutely necessary. That is why now, observing Yue-lung's emotional crisis that has been spanning over several weeks already, he doesn't offer any help. Sing would reluctantly ask his opinion on that matter every now and then, but Sergei dismissed his every question with statement that maturation is something Yue-lung must go through alone in order to grow stronger. Sing left muttering something about cold-blooded ingrates under his breath.

Yue-lung himself hasn't asked his advice even once, which earned him both Sergei's respect and... well, something akin to resentment that Sergei finds quite amusing. Apparently, Lee Yue-lung is such an extraordinary being that everyone around him yearns for his attention, given that even Sergei Varishikov doesn't feel okay being ignored by him. Maybe he's even disappointed by the treatment the young mafia boss had been giving him, although in both cases the fault is only his. To tell the truth, when accepting his job offer, he believed that the young master wouldn't leave him alone, and yet it appeared that his only task was to be here. He has a lot of free time, and the local library is better stocked up than his house in the Caribbean. Also, he knows it's better to live in peace, without surprises and fighting, but he sometimes feels that his staying here is meaningless.

However, such moments of conceited pretense are rare, because he knows perfectly well that Yue-lung does need him. Sergei still can't say he likes the young boss, but he can't deny feeling attached to him.

As for now, Yue-lung is so preoccupied by his present troubles that he seems to have forgot all about their contract expiring in the end of the year. Finally, in mid-December, Sergei mentions it himself.

Yue-lung's expression clearly says that he forgot about it indeed; the next moment, however, shame in his eyes turns to fear. "You can't leave...!" he says in a strangled voice. "Not now... I can't lose you too."

Inwardly, Sergei agrees with him, but it's something else that catches his attention. "Me 'too'?" he asks calmly.

Yue-lung rests his forehead on his palms and says nothing. He seems terribly upset.

"Is Sing going somewhere? I have no knowledge of that."

The name makes Yue-lung twitch. "Sing must be hating me by now," he finally speaks, and it comes with difficulty.

"Well, I can't say you didn't give him any reason for that," Sergei says in a neutral voice.

Yue-lung hunches even more in his armchair.

"Won't you tell me about what's troubling you?" Sergei asks after a moment, deciding he can once make an exception to the rule. "For weeks, you've kept the things bottled up, I was almost disappointed... Well, maybe not exactly bottled up," he adds with a smile. "I think there's only one intact set of glasses in the house, but at least some people got paid when that broken window and chair was mended. In any case, you earned my respect trying to cope with your difficulties by yourself..."

Yue-lung raises his head to look at him; his face is wet of tears. "Do you really think so?" he asks in a tearful voice before wiping his eyes like a little kid.

Sergei tries to remain serious and refrains from advising the use of a handkerchief. After all, Yue-lung is eighteen... although it's pretty hard to believe it in the moments like this. "I really think so," he says calmly. "I even told Sing that he should leave you alone because it's something you must go through by yourself."

Yue-lung shivers again. "Sing... talked with you about me?"

"A few times. He's worried about you. He would like to know how to help you."

Now it's the mixture of emotions showing on Yue-lung's face, hope and joy fighting with dejection and guilt. Suddenly Sergei realizes it's really serious... and, at the same time, he's somewhat relieved. "In any case, I told him he shouldn't interfere," he repeats.

"He didn't listen to you."

"Well, that's Sing we're speaking about."

Now Yue-lung's face lights up with a smile, and Sergei asks himself why was he blind to the most obvious option. Maybe because it didn't even occur to him. What's more important, though - does Yue-lung realize it himself? And, if he doesn't, is he ready for realizing it? "Back to the topic, why should Sing leave?"

Yue-lung straightens up in the armchair. "It's not that," he says, looking to the side. "He just... He's changing. I'm scared of that."

'You still don't know about the change that awaits _you_ ,' Sergei thinks but doesn't plan to say it aloud. "Does it have something to do with your previous experience?" he asks carefully but directly. "With your insecurity in contacts with the men?"

Yue-lung gets pale but nods nonetheless.

"Sing is younger, so you've been treating him like a kid... maybe some kind of a little brother," Sergei guesses. "With someone like that, there was no reason to feel anything but safe. But now that Sing started to turn into a man... you're scared?"

Yue-lung's fingers clench at the fabric of his trousers, but he nods again, although he probably finds it difficult.

"And what if it will be a change for the better?" Sergei suggests.

Yue-lung frowns and looks up at him. "For the better?"

"Like, what if he grows to be an enhanced version of me?" Sergei says, although he realizes this statement indicates he's incredibly conceited. Still, it seems to him that he should use simple examples when speaking with Yue-lung like that.

Yue-lung has never looked at him with such a reserve before... Ah, never mind. "Have you ever considered _me_ to be dangerous?" he goes on, and Yue-lung denies it, like expected. "Then why it shouldn't be the same with Sing?"

"What did you mean speaking of an enhanced version?" Yue-lung asks with hesitation.

Sergei raises his eyebrows. "Isn't it obvious? Sing is much better person than I."

Yue-lung stares at him for a moment, thoughtful, before nodding slowly. Then, however, his expression grows anxious again. "But, after all that... I'm sure he hates me," he says wailfully.

"With all due respect... I think that if he were to abandon you, he would have done it long ago." Sergei replies at once. "Then again, such conjecturing is utterly pointless since it's obvious he considers himself your friend. Like I said, he's been worrying about you recently. He can't be happy with you treating him the way you do... but the thing with real friends is that they don't give up easily. That's what I think."

"Friends..." Yue-lung repeats before looking up at him. He seems like a five-year-old again. "Sing is my friend?"

Sergei refrains from rolling his eyes. He reminds himself that Yue-lung probably hasn't had anyone he could call a friend in his whole life. "Why won't you ask him?"

"True, he did say he liked me," Yue-lung says quietly, lowering his head. "But it was long ago. Since then-"

"Young master, like I said: real friendship continues despite everything. Do not apply your own standards to Sing. You're going to hurt both him and yourself."

Yue-lung nods, his gaze is distracted; he's clearly thinking of what he's heard. Sergei is certain he's given him things to think over at least for several days... unless, of course, young master doesn't forget all about them once this conversation is over, turning into that bundle of nerves and emotions he's been for weeks now. In psychotherapy, the main healing element is related to regularly repeating the crucial things until the other party is finally able to recognize and accept them. No-one is capable of modifying their way of thinking and acting just like that, only because someone suggested them to do it. On the other hand, new information is always desirable, especially when a patient is intelligent enough to analyze them, but they should be properly dosed. Sergei is aware that for now Yue-lung will do perfectly well with the idea of friendship alone.

"Sing is someone important to me," Yue-lung speaks after a longer moment of silence, and Sergei inwardly congratulates him on the ability to admit it.

"Why won't you tell him that?" he suggests innocently.

Yue-lung turns pale again, and his eyes grow wide with fear, which makes Sergei comprehend another cause of his terrible behavior. He's able to understand him. He also knows that sometimes understanding is just not enough.

"There's nothing better than two people who are important to each other," he says brightly.

That, however, seems to be someone Yue-lung isn't ready for. His face becomes closed, with all emotions vanishing from it, and Sergei knows their talk is over. Yue-lung gets up and approaches the window; when he speaks again, his voice is perfectly calm, as if the conversation didn't happen at all. "As for your contract, I'd be glad if you agreed to extend it," he says.

And Sergei knows he wants to stay here and see what is going to happen next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yue must be a Scorpio. As for Sing, my friend suggested he's a Sagittarius, and I certainly accepted that :D


	17. Chapter 17

Soo-ling is positive he's going through the moxt exciting time of his life. That he finally started to grow means he's not going to stay a shrimp for the rest of his days. He sure knows his father was very tall, but the knowledge alone is just not enough. He can't wait until he grows into the size of an adult man that fits a gang leader. To be frank, he considers it a miracle that he's been reckoned with over the last two years; apparently, he's managed to make up for that shortcoming with his skills. Anyway, it seems that he's entered the path leading to maturity. His enthusiasm and excitation can't be damped even by the occasional coordination problems - the gym training remedies it a bit - and his voice embarrassingly cracking in the most desirable moments.

When he realizes he's now taller than Yue-lung, he's triumphant at first; Yue-lung still happens to treat him like a kid every now and then, so maybe it will finally end now. Soon, however, that euphoria - quite superficial and based on the need to pay the guy back, he admits it - turns into something deeper: desire to be seen as a partner. Even though he's learned well that Yue-lung's emotional level is that of a five-year-old, he's still concerned by that age gap of two years between the two of them. He hopes that once he looks better, Yue-lung would treat him like an equal.

In the last weeks, he's been thinking of Yue-lung a lot. The head of the syndicate surprised him showing him concern; until that moment, Soo-ling considered his attachment to him as more or less one-sided, despite knowing that Yue-lung needed him. Still, he thought of it as a basic need, a necessity without any feelings behind it, like need for air or food. They are something you must fight for in the situation when there's risk of them running out, but once there's plenty of them, you don't even think of them. Yet, Yue-lung's action indicated something more; why else would 'young master' leave his cocoon, his comfort zone? Why else would he think of another person instead of only looking at himself? And not just once, but twice already!

Since then, Soo-ling has been observing him closely in order to confirm his assumptions. He's disappointed - the third time not only doesn't happen, but Yue-lung is back to his older, hysterical self from the last spring - but it's not enough to spoil his attitude. It takes him a while to understand that he _really_ hopes he means more than air to Yue-lung. Over several months of an intensive relationship, the young mafia boss, for all his faults, has become his invaluable companion, the essential part of his life. First Soo-ling couldn't hate him, then started to care about him, then took liking to him, and then grew attached to him. At his point, something earth-shaking would have to happen for him to start to despise Yue-lung again.

He's aware the emotions the young syndicate boss stirs in him are the mix of more and less constructive. On the one hand, he actively admires his bright mind, and on the other hand, he passively sympathizes with his tragedies; as for the destructive criticism, he at least tries to avoid it. The same way, his behavior towards Yue-lung is a mixture of supporting him in the organization stuff, and of caring and providing emotional help, and sometimes setting him straight in a rough manner, too. He knows well that Yue-lung consists of several parts he shows depending on his mood. Also, he recognizes those fragments he doesn't like - hateful, cruel and calculating, treating people like pawns - and yet accepts, as they, too, belong to the entirety called Lee Yue-lung, who is also capable of smiling and sometimes laughing, and even stretching his help and showing he does care.

After half a year, Soo-ling knows he wants to follow Yue-lung and protects him. He could call it a friendship, at least one-sided, right? His inner optimist tells him that, the next half a year from now, the situation may be much more advanced; he only needs to put some effort in it. That's why now he isn't dispirited by the hysterical tantrums, being called names and sometimes thrown things at, only plans to wait it out, just like he's waited out everything until now and it was worth it.

In the end of December, Yue-lung comes down with a terrible influenza that puts him into bed. First, he has a nasty fever, and then it takes him a very long to recover. His organism, weakened with poor nutrition and insomnia - to say nothing of psychological stress - needs several weeks to regain his health. Soo-ling blames himself for bringing the virus home - his disease was mild and short, and he considered it just a common cold - which he tries to compensate for with taking care for the patient. He sits by his bed, brings him meals, adjusts his pillows... at least as much as Yue-lung lets him; in this condition, though, he's too weak to throw tantrums or protest in any physical manner. However, at least five times per day Soo-ling hears angry or exasperated, or strained, or despairing, 'Go away!', sometimes followed by an explanation, 'you're get ill, too,' or, 'I don't want to see you,' or, 'I don't need you,' or, 'I can't sleep.' Sometimes Yue-lung only looks at him and sometimes seems to be wanting to say something, sometimes averts his eyes and appears to be close to tears. Sometimes he just sleeps because he's so exhausted that not even somebody else's presence disturbs him. Blanca's visits he keeps demanding clearly make his mood better and calm him.

Soo-ling has all too much time to wonder about the possible reasons why Yue-lung started to treat him like a necessary evil again, but he can't reach any conclusions. When the situation only prolongs, it starts to worry him. He's almost certain that this time he's done nothing to deserve such treatment. When he finally formulates a possible explanation in his mind, he's first uncomfortable and then scared. He realizes that it would be extremely hard for him to relinquish this friendship if Yue-lung grew _bored_ with him.

* * *

In the mid-January, Sergei has an unexpected guest... unless you can call it someone you live under the same roof with. Yet, it's been a while since the last time Sing visited him, so there must be a reason behind that. For a moment, the boy seems to be mustering his courage, standing there with his arms folded and glowering at him. Finally he sits down in the armchair and puts his elbows on his knees. "Why 'young master' acts normally around you and only gets hysterical with me?" he asks outright.

"Wasn't it always like that?" Sergei asks slyly.

"It was," Sing agrees reluctantly.

"But it started to disturb you only now...?"

This, Sing doesn't comment; he averts his head.

"Don't you think he might be simply polite with me... and honest with you?" Sergei suggests. "You're very lucky. You're probably the only person in the world he can afford it with."

Sing looks at him again and then shakes his head. "No, it's different now. Now it's anything but honesty, I can tell it," he says in a decisive voice before adding somewhat miserably, "Now it's complete distrust. He prefers you."

Sergei keeps silent for a moment. "It doesn't say a thing about me, only you," he says in the end, and these words make Sing wince.

"Does he hate me?" Sing asks in a low voice, and Sergei has never seen him so upset before... and it makes him happy because it indicates something important being in question.

"Sing, how can you be so silly? It's the opposite," he says. "Didn't it occur to you he's become attached to you and it frightens him terribly?"

Sing straightens up in the armchair and blinks in astonishment. "What's there to be frightened about?" he asks with some hesitation. "It's not the end of the world... quite the contrary."

Sergei shakes his head. "It may as well be the end of the world for him... of the world he knows. Just think about it. You're probably the very first person he's been considering important in a long time. You're the only friend he's ever had... if he even understood that as a friendship, in the first place. But for someone like him, attachment means weakness, danger. You can understand it, can't you?"

A doubtful expression appears on Sing's face - Sergei interprets it as, "How can somebody be so twisted?" - but then the boy nods slowly. "Yeah, I know him well enough already to tell that his way of thinking often... um, deviates from standard," he says. "Sometimes, I can even comprehend it."

"You put it very nicely," Sergei praises him, suppressing a smile.

Sing glares at him; he's never been susceptible to flattery. He remains silent, and Sergei suspects he's mustering... no, not courage - he's brave even too much - only humbleness to ask, "What should I do about it?" It's obvious he's at his wit's end.

Sergei respects Sing enough to spare him the need to ask. "I think the only way is to be patient," he informs in a gentle manner. "But there's one more thing you should know: he's not only scared of himself, but of you as well."

Now Sing looks at him as if Sergei has just grown a second head... or as if he's just heard the greatest nonsense in the world. He's clearly speechless. "What...?" he finally asks, in a complete disbelief.

"You've heard me right."

"Why should he fear me?" now there's complaint and offence in his voice. "I've never done anything to him, quite the contrary..."

"It doesn't matter. I mean, of course it does, only... He's scared you could take advantage of that attachment," Sergei explains, and when Sing looks like protesting, he adds quickly, "I know, I know you're not that kind of a man... but he's never had anyone around him to trust they wouldn't hurt him. That's why you must be patient."

Sing doesn't seem pleased with that answer, but he nods nonetheless... and waits for more. He's decided to come here and ask Sergei's advice and opinion, so he's ready to accept them, whatever they might be. It's been a long time since Sergei met such a honest and straightforward, and mentally tough man, and hence his respect. He smiles.

"As for another reason... Hmm, you've started to grow up. Before you know it, you'll be a big and a strong man," he says lightly before adding with emphasis, " _A threat._ "

Now Sing freezes altogether. If Sergei hadn't known him as a bright and gathered boy, this conversation would have made him believe Sing was a dimwit. Yet, he's perfectly capable of understanding his reaction - and feel sorry for him, and envy him, and wish him all the best. What makes him most happy is that Sing is here. That someone like that - wise, warm and compassionate - is by Lee Yue-lung's side, who would otherwise meet a psychological destruction.

"But I told him that you'll certainly grow into an enhanced version of me," he adds in order to lessen the impact of his previous words.

Sing winces. "You're terribly conceited, you know that?"

"I meant it as a compliment," Sergei qualifies, trying not to laugh.

"That makes you even more conceited!" Sing insisted, but then he averts his eyes. He's silent for a while before muttering, "And what did he say about it?"

"It seemed he at least gave it some thought," Sergei answers politely.

Sing snorts; he's still looking to the side. "Well, given that his behavior hasn't changed for the better, I don't think the conclusions he reached pleased him," he states in a critical manner.

Sergei observes him closely. He would very much like to know how Sing feels about Yue-lung, but he isn't certain if Sing knows it himself. That's why he asks once more, "Why did it start to bother you that he's... hmm, upset now?"

Sing turns his head to look at him again. "Butt off, will you?"

Well, it seems that Sing at least realizes that Yue-lung is very important to him, more he would like to admit it. Sergei recalls his earlier words, "Does he hate me?" Sing has invested too much in that relationship to be comfortable with the thought it might end now. He doesn't deserve to fear that.

"Then let me com- Then let me tell you that you're really important to him," Sergei reveals. "His actions result only from anxiety, from fear. That's why the only thing to do is to be patient and bear with it. It's the only way to make that fear diminish." 'Unless you tell him directly you care about him,' he wants to add but isn't certain himself if it would really make a difference, so he says instead, "I don't think you could _do_ anything about it. You must wait until he works out the problem and makes a decision."

"I'm not exactly patience incarnated," Sing says with reserve, which makes Sergei raise his brows. He didn't expect the boy to be modest to such an extent that he can't see his own virtues.

"You've put up with him for so long already. Sing, believe me, you're an angel."

Sing averts his eyes; he seems clearly embarrassed but also grateful.

"If only you want and can be with him from now on, too, it would be the best thing. He needs you more than anything or anyone else," Sergei goes on in a calm voice. "He's probably unable to identify the exact nature of that need, but maybe it's not necessary, at least for now. It's not that important if it's friendship, love or yet another thing; he just need someone to be concerned about him, and he needs _continuity_. He must be certain it won't just end. It can also be that his actions aim at checking out how long you could bear with him... when you start to be tired of him. That's what he subconsciously expects."

"Moron," Sing states, and Sergei hears a clear affection in that word.

"And a vicious creature, on top of it, one capable to making your life terrible. I'm not amazed you find it diffi-"

"I'll be fine," Sing interrupts him, staring him in the eye; a renewed determination rings in his voice. Then, however, he asks doubtfully, "Is it really possible for a person to think that way? You know that stuff, so tell me," he adds with reluctance.

Sergei bursts out laughing... and then, taking advantage of his guest's curiosity, starts a lecture on the unconscious motivations that drive the behavior of every man.


	18. Chapter 18

Yue-lung recovered at least as much that he got out of the bed, but he's still very weak. The good point is that he has no strength to rage, to display any aggressive behavior to Sing; in fact, he stopped talking altogether. It could also be that calming down results from something else: the last weeks. That is because, despite all he's showed and done since the fall, Sing is still here and never expressed any intention of leaving, just like he's done nothing to made Yue-lung feel threatened. At the same time, Yue-lung has probably got used a bit to the current situation; he's accepted both that Sing is turning into an adult and that their relationship lasts and even seems to get stronger. He's slowly started to realize that Sing may really care about him... that it's like Blanca said: a friend isn't discouraged by every little thing.

Sing still isn't discouraged; it's the opposite, he's been spending more and more time with him and showing him more and more support. That illness, nasty as it was - Yue-lung hates to feel even more weak he normally feels - had that unexpected benefit that Sing _really took care for him_. He stayed by his side every day, trying to make him feel better. Even though he's growing at a terrible pace - it seems to Yue-lung he's getting bigger as they speak - his character hasn't changed: he's still that helpful and optimistic boy. Someone who considers himself Yue-lung's friend.

Yue-lung has never had any friends. Since he turned six, he was surrounded by people who only hurt him. Only some servants showed him some affection, but they were just servants. The older he was, the more he convinced himself he didn't need any affection, and that conviction was motivated by belief he didn't deserve any. He spent most of his time locked inside, without seeing his peers. He was educated by the tutors and took all exams remotely. The only people he came in contact with were either the business partners or the enemies of the Lee family, but it's hard to talk about 'contact', as he only gave sex to the former and death to the latter. It was only when Wang-lung sent him to LA to get information about the Banana Fish that he had the occasion to meet the guys from the Chinatown gang and Ash Lynx... and learned how different but also similar he was to other teenagers. But they were his enemies, too, someone to be destroyed or, at least, taken advantage of.

Then, however, Sing appeared, entering his life and never leaving, despite all vileness Yue-lung brought upon him. From the logical point of view, Sing's motives couldn't be comprehended... but Blanca said that friendship doesn't happen because of something only despite it. So, if that rule were applied here, Sing is a friend one hundred percent. By some miracle, he gained his trust and made Yue-lung, who could only hate people so far, grow attached to him as well. No, he became essential to life for him.

Yue-lung still doesn't know if Sing is that person Blanca mentioned last year: someone to love and care about him, but he's inclined to the option he is. If not Sing, then who else?

Maybe that's why he stopped raging; he started to accept that Sing is here to stay. Even though he still can't trust it _will_ be that way, will be _forever_... then at least Sing's intentions as they are now indicates it. After all, if he had enough of him, he would have left him long ago... right?

That inner optimist is usually quickly deafened by the pessimist asking, "But will it be enough?" That pessimist - commonsense demanding attention - reminds him of Blanca's another statement, 'One who does not love cannot be loved either.' Yue-lung knows that he can't give Sing anything back because he's only able to take. So won't it happen that once he takes it all, there will be nothing left... and that friendship will just end? He finds it easy to believe.

That's why in late January his mood is low and he can't quite be hopeful about the situation. After several months of active effort to make Sing hate him - unconscious, but real - now Yue-lung passively prepares himself for the end happening more or less naturally. For some reason, however, despite all that sorrow and dejection, despite that psychological torment he's experienced recently, it hasn't occurred to him, not for a single time, to end himself, which earlier would have undoubtedly happened.

* * *

Yue-lung got out of the bed, but it seems the long sickness robbed him of all strength, both in body and soul. His hysterical tantrums ended for good; now, for a change, he's miserable and sad, and Soo-ling can't tell himself if it isn't even worse. He racks his brain about a possible reason behind it and how to remedy it. He repeatedly goes back to his talk with Blanca, searching for clues how to handle this situation, but the only thing that is left in his head is the message, 'wait patiently'. Yet, it's extremely difficult to stand by and only watch how a friend is troubled, and be incapable of nothing about it. Yue-lung, of course, won't tell him anything; actually, he stopped talking to him at all.

In late January, Soo-ling notices that recently his thought has been concerning only Yue-lung. He knows from experience that once he become emotionally involved, everything else just falls into the background - to such an extent that negligence can have bad result - but he can't help it. That's why now he practically stopped taking care of the gang - fortunately, the situation in the town is under control - and gives his whole attention to Yue-lung. It's as if the conversation with Blanca opened his eyes to some new eventuality, pushed him in a new direction... Now that he knows - only from Blanca, but he somehow trust him on that matter - that Yue-lung cares about him, he wishes nothing more that their mutual fondness stabilizes on the level that could support them both, instead of making them suffer.

It never ceases to amaze him that Lee Yue-lung could have some warmer feelings for him. Apparently, the image of somebody arrogant, haughty and emanating the message, 'Don't come any closer,' stayed for good in his head. At the same time, he's aware that such thinking isn't fair; Yue-lung is a human being, and even though his personality is twisted, some basic rules guiding human behavior and sparking needs can be applied to him as well. How did it happen that over their relationship Soo-ling started to see him like some kind of a freak - to such an extent now he's amazed by the idea of Yue-lung starving for friendship...?

Actually, there's one more thing that makes the situation hard to bear; it seems to Soo-ling that Yue-lung waits for some sign from him. Blanca said that Yue-lung has to reach his own conclusions and make his own decisions, but Soo-ling has spent more time with him already and suspects that waiting may be not enough. Maybe it's his impatient nature speaking - he's really bad at sitting on his ass and doing nothing - but it's also true that every breakthrough in their relationship so far happened when Soo-ling did something and Yue-lung reacted to it; it took them to the next stage. If Yue-lung is as uncertain as Blanca suggested - Soo-ling can totally see it - then it's quite hard to assume that he takes the initiative or says directly what he thinks. Soo-ling will probably have to create some incident again. The thing is their respective ways of thinking and feeling are completely different, and Soo-ling has no idea what he should do. It's not easy to play a fortune.

Maybe it's also because of the fact he still isn't sure how he would like to see their relation; he only knows that Lee Yue-lung became an extremely important part of his life, maybe even the most important. He's somebody Soo-ling hasn't had before, somebody special and irreplaceable. He's somebody Soo-ling wants to help and protect, whose smile he wants to see and whose welfare weighs very heavily on his heart. Somebody he never wants to part with. And somebody whose attention, recognition and respect he wants to deserve, whose trust he wants to have and whose affection he wishes be sure of.

When looking at things from this perspective, he's under the impression there's still a long way before them... but then he quickly remembers how much they've managed to build already over the last year. He knows himself well enough to know he won't give up. Yet, he doesn't trust himself enough to believe he won't make any mistake.

* * *

Yue-lung, despite getting out of bed, keeps napping every day on the coach or in the armchair. He probably doesn't even plan it; he's just tired and dozes off. Soo-ling has no idea if Yue-lung sleeps indeed - before, he couldn't sleep in somebody's presence and would wake up at the slightest move or sound - but he never disturbs his rest. Usually, he goes to the gym, browses the newspapers or talks to the people from the syndicate if somebody is available and has time for him. As for Blanca, he keeps away from the guy, considering him a manipulator who sees through every person... though, of course, his loyalty is undisputed. Blanca, however, despite apparently caring about the young master, doesn't speak of him in a very nice manner, and Soo-ling doesn't like that at all.

February started already. It's slight frost outside but sunny, and the sunlight is coming in the living-room through the window. It's not even noon yet, but Yue-lung has already grown tired. He's lying on the coach, his lower body covered with blanket. He's wearing one of those warm yet loose sweaters that hide his shapes instead of revealing them. He hasn't tied his hair today - he either felt too weak or didn't feel like doing so - and it flows down loose over the edge of the coach all the way to the floor. He has his hands under his cheek. His face is pale; he hasn't been outside for many weeks now. His long eyelashes cast a shadow on his skin, and his mouth is slightly apart. He's breathing slowly, maybe he's really asleep, but even now he seems tense and troubled.

Soo-ling is standing in the doorway and suddenly feels as if all air vanished from the room. His chest clenches with some sweet pain he can't understand. What he does understand is that he never wishes to leave here; he only wants to stare at that sleeping figure forever. He's overcome by so many emotions he gives up the idea to separate and identify them, but one is perfectly obvious to him: deep affection so strong it almost sweeps him off his feet. Like in dream, he walks closer - without making a sound so that he doesn't wake him - then sits down on the carpet and just looks at that pale oval of face framed by dark hair.

For the first time in his life, he realizes Yue-lung is _beautiful_. He's never looked at him that way before, and now he suddenly saw it... and that discovery doesn't throw him off balance; it's the contrary, it seems the most natural thing in the world. Yet, the beauty he sees in that sleeping figure is not only delicate features, long eyelashes and exquisite hair, but also some innocence and vulnerableness. Yes, that's how Yue-lung seems to him now: innocent and vulnerable, and Soo-ling wants to take him in his arms and never let him go, protect him from any harm and give him some of his own strength.

At this moment, he has the impression he was born only to meet him.

He sits there for some fifteen minutes, with his eyes fixed on the sleeping face, trying to return to reality, but the overwhelming tenderness and desire to show it won't disappear; they only seem to grow and take hold of his whole body. The first conclusion he manages to come to after that quarter of hour spent in another dimension - and a reminder - is that Yue-lung doesn't want to be touched and would never let anybody embrace him. It fills Soo-ling with disappointment and regret... but then he remembers that sometimes Yue-lung didn't mind his touch, like when Soo-ling held his hand in the Chinatown. He also remembers when Yue-lung gave him his consent, the last spring when asking that Soo-ling brushed his hair. And there was also that one time when he was ready to give himself to him. So maybe... maybe...?

His arm, as if it had a will on its own, rises. His fingers - trembling yet determined - touch the shining, silky blackness cascading over the edge of the couch and then sink in it. The ticking of hair against his skin makes him shiver all over, and suddenly he must bite his lips to stop a moan. He would like to take up that hair to his lips, touch it with his cheek, inhale its scent... but he overcomes that impulse in the last second. He's perfectly sure nothing has ever required as much control as this.

The next moment his heart drops into his stomach because, when he looks up again, his gaze meets Yue-lung's. Yue-lung is looking at him, his eyelids half-open, and there's that amethyst glow that sometimes shows in his eyes. Soo-ling has no idea how long Yue-lung has been staring at him, and he almost panics. The magical atmosphere filling the room and making it the safest place in the world is suddenly gone.

"Don't stop," Yue-lung says, and it's almost a whisper.

But Soo-ling doesn't know what he asks about... He withdraws his hand. The hair brushes against his skin one last time, and then only absurd sense of loss is left. Suddenly, he's just a scared kid, although just a moment ago he felt like the strongest man in the world. He feels like running away... but something, maybe the last flash of reason, tells him that if he does, then everything will be lost, definitely and irrevocably.

"I'm sorry..." he says, looking to the side.

"For what?"

"I waked you... and I messed with your hair," Soo-ling adds in a whisper and then gulps.

"I don't mind," Yue-lung replies calmly. "I told you not to stop."

Soo-ling dares to look at him again. Yue-lung is still lying on the coach in the same position and without moving, and only staring at him. Soo-ling has that thought again, 'You're so beautiful,' and must stop himself from saying it aloud. He suddenly is struck by the realization it's the first time since very long that they can talk. No, that they can look each other in the eye. After months of screams and silence, this contact seems something very precious... and invigorating. It's easy to believe the bad time is past them.

"You don't hate me?" Soo-ling asks, as it is the first thing he's wanted to know all this time.

Yue-lung blinks before averting his eyes. "No," he mutters. "And you?"

"Of course I don't," Soo-ling replies, and then his throat clenches.

Yue-lung glances at him again, and there's relief on his face. Soo-ling comes to the conclusion they are two idiots, and suddenly feels like laughing. It's like some chapter in his life has been closed and there's no need to go back to it, no need to ask and make sure. What happened in the last few months is a thing of the past. He wants to believe it won't happen again.

Yue-lung levers himself up on the elbow and then sits up, tucking his legs under him. Soo-ling follows the motion of his hair, falling like a soft wave along his face to cover his right side. Calm he's felt for a moment is gone now. He averts his eyes and clenches his fists; his fingers still remember the touch of that black silk. He gulps again, although his mouth is dry. It seems to him that he'll start shivering all over any moment.

"What did you want to do with my hair?" he hears a quiet voice.

"I'm sorry," he answers automatically. "I shouldn't have... You don't like..."

"Don't apologize, just answer."

Soo-ling looks at him again; every glance at his face makes his heart beat faster and his chest clench with that bittersweet feeling, makes his breathing quicker and his face hot. Then he looks away again. He couldn't answer that question even in a thousand years.

"I sure don't like being touched. But I won't mind it if you want to brush my hair," Yue-lung says and then adds with a little smile, "I waited a year."


	19. Chapter 19

The change in the atmosphere doesn't escape Sergei's attention. It seems that Yue-lung and Sing started to talk again, and he wonders about what could have brought such progress. It may be that Yue-lung simply came to the right conclusions... but Sergei finds it hard to believe, especially with someone like Sing Soo-ling, a man of action, being the other party in the relationship. Besides, Sing would have never just settled for Sergei's advice.

Yue-lung got out of the dejection of the last weeks. His appetite improved, his level of activity raised, and he started to smile. For his part, Sing seems to be in some haze, and a bundle of nerves - neither of that fits him, but apparently it must be so. Occasionally, Sergei catches the glances Sing casts at Yue-lung when the latter isn't looking; they usually make him avert his eyes and smile.

On the one hand, Sergei is amazed that of them two it is Sing who noticed first their relationship could be deeper they ever assumed... but, on the other hand, the boy has always been smarter and, frankly speaking, more normal. It's hard to expect something like that of Yue-lung, whose understanding of feelings other than hatred is very poor. For now, it seems that the young mafia boss accepted Sing's friendship, which is good, and what is to come will come.

It takes Sergei a while to realize he supports the two young men in their relationship. Maybe this support is a token of gratitude because, after half a year, he's aware that getting involved in their affairs enabled him to think of something else than Ash. Yue-lung and Sing, with their emotions and feelings, remind him only of life and serve as a counterweight to sadness and regret caused by death. If Sergei has stayed in the Caribbean, he would have likely been still mourning and grieving, hopeless and apathetic. He probably wouldn't be able to smile again. He would have lost faith there was still some good in the world.

Yue-ling and Sing made him believe once more in the power of a bond. That's why he keeps his 'adolescent counseling corner', reveals the harmless secrets and plays a cupid, although there wasn't a word about it in his contract. Maybe it's that part of his that could never walk away from the wronged children, without, at the very least, an urge to help... or maybe it's that damn knowledge that if nothing is done, the end result will be a destruction. Suffice it to say that when he realized Sing Soo-ling may be the only person capable of saving Lee Yue-lung, he decided to step in. Those two would probably do well without him, too, but once he's here, he can make himself useful. Sometimes an outsider can see more, especially one knowledgeable about psychology... Or maybe he's trying to push the responsibility on Sing again, which is the most probable option.

When he looks at the two Chinese boys, he sometimes wonder if Ash and Eiji would be like them if they had got their chance. Oh, each of them is different, their characters and tempers are different, as is or was the dynamics of their respective relationships, but it's not about comparing the people. Sergei just wants to imagine that, if Eiji had taken Ash to Japan, then Ash would have been able to cut himself off from his past and just enjoy that new and peaceful reality, devoid of suffering. Even though sometimes such visions make him sad, it's still better than consoling himself with statement, 'At least, Ash died a happy man.' He hopes that Yue-lung and Sing will be happy _in life_.

* * *

Soo-ling is under the impression he's the happiest man under the sun, although he has no idea what he did to deserve that. Yue-lung's offer - and the vision of being able to touch again that wonderful hair - almost sent him to heaven. He had no courage to ask why Yue-lung suggested it - maybe he feared the proposal to be taken back once thought over - so he only nodded.

After five minutes, he was sitting on the coach behind Yue-lung's back with a comb in his hand... and a fresh realization he had no idea about doing somebody's hair. Yue-lung didn't consider it a problem and made him his royal hairdresser whose hands he's been giving himself into since then every morning. They started with combing, then Soo-ling learned how to bind and pin, and then also how to braid hair - and he's apparently good at it as he sometimes even gets a praise. What he considers the greatest success, though, is that he's dropped the comb only a few times; he's so excited he's trembling all over.

He quickly finds out that he's not satisfied with combing alone. Handling Yue-lung's hair makes him want much more. Sometimes he dares to briefly touch his shoulder or brush his fingers against his nape or ear, as if accidentally. He's intoxicated by the scent of Yue-lung's hair, but he would also like to know how his skin smells. He often must stop himself from leaning over and kiss his neck, especially the left side, around the tattoo.

He knows he's not allowed to do it. He mustn't cross the line, not now that he's managed to win Yue-lung's trust again. He knows that if he breached that barrier, then not only would he lost everything but also do damage beyond repair, maybe even cause a tragedy, while the only thing he desires it that Yue-lung is happy. So he's not going to imagine what may be or be not between the two of them. It must be like Yue-lung wants it. What Soo-ling desires himself is of less importance.

The strongest emotion in him is still that boundless affection, and it's only it he admits in the daytime, keeping his hormones in check. At night, he allows himself to experience more. In his dreams, he holds Yue-lung in his arms and makes every part of his body his own, as if trying to say, 'You are mine,' and Yue-lung lets him... and only him.

Sometimes he wonders how long he will hold up, settling for what he has without reaching for more. Not every time he's able to answers that as long as it takes. Yet, he never wonders about these feelings and desires, as if they were the most natural and welcome... as if Lee Yue-lung were born only to be their object. Soo-ling would like to give him everything and even more, what's unclear about that?

The only thing spoiling his euphoria is that Blanca apparently guessed everything. From time to time, the guy gives Soo-ling meaningful smiles, sometimes nods to him when Yue-lung is not looking, and sometimes gives him a thumb up as if showing his support. Soo-ling wishes that he went back to the Caribbean already, and has no idea how he's going to tolerate staying with him under the same roof until summer, as the contract was extended by six months. But there's no other way than to put up with it.

* * *

Yue-lung discovered it was worth waiting. Ah, it's not like he's been exactly _waiting;_ he's just happy that this time Sing was persuaded into this. Such long hair like his is quite hard to be handled by himself, and he's still pretty weak after the long disease. Sing, which is typical of him, applies himself to the task and even seems to enjoy it. Yue-lung has no idea what got into him making that offer - maybe because he noticed Sing seemed like really wanting to do it, haha...

In truth, he's very happy that they are back to normal, if it can be put this way. However, he knows that, had it been not for that moment that happened quite by a chance, the two of them would have still been in discord, like they had been since the last fall. And yet, when that moment happened... Yue-lung was indeed napping on the coach but suddenly waked up, and when he opened his eyes, he noticed Sing... and realized he hadn't even looked at him since very long. But what amazed him the most was Sing's expression at that time. It wasn't irritation or dissatisfaction, it wasn't curiosity or determination, emotions Yue-lung often saw in him. That time his face was full of delight, longing and even a pained happiness... and all of that was caused by him, Lee Yue-lung.

The strangest thing about it was that those new emotions didn't scare him, even though he feared the changes, especially in Sing. Yet, in those new emotions Yue-lung didn't sense any danger; it's the opposite, he felt they were good and could save their friendship, strained by the previous months. That's why, instead of getting hysterical, he mustered his courage and made an offer that, as it appears, threw a brigde between Sing and him. Since then, Yue-lung can't stop feeling amazed that he's actually managed to built something.

In March, he finally recovered fully; he got his strength back, and spring invigorated him. By that time, Sing learned how to handle three different types of comb and make five different types of braids; he has very skilled fingers. Yue-lung enjoys these morning treatments in his hands... and every day his sense of security grows, despite Sing getting bigger all the time. Blanca's words about Sing growing into his better version sound more and more convincing.

One day in mid-March, Yue-lung realizes his life turned tolerable enough that he has no reason to complain. Blanca cares abut his physical safety, while Sing guarantees his psychological well-being. His mood is quite okay, and he even sleeps better, although it may as well result from the disease. In any case, his nightmares aren't as frequent as before, and he usually sleeps until morning. He even has an appetite.

He started to take interest in his surroundings and go out. For now, these are visits to the opera, philharmonic hall and theatre; it seems to him he's neglected his cultural growth, having secluded himself at home for so long. It wasn't particularly hard to convince Sing to accompany him, although persuading him into putting on an appropriate garment did demand some effort. It's probably when Yue-lung sees him wearing a suit for the first time that he realizes Sing's face started to lose its roundness. His features sharpened, and his lips became more determined. Together with that deep voice that comes from him more and more often, Sing is a novelty that, however, no longer scares him; it's the opposite, Yue-lung is more and more certain he really likes it. Only Sing's gaze is like it's always been: bright, honest, warm... although Yue-lung realizes that recently their eyes hardly ever meet.

Yet, the longer the nice situation continues, the more Yue-lung - how typical of him - starts to fear it's going to end. Instead of feeling more certain and building hope inside, he begins to wonder what may go wrong and when his happiness will be shattered to pieces. It requires great courage to speak of happiness, in the first place - maybe that's why he's so concerned about it. Finally, he reaches that stage that he expects the disaster every day, turning into a bundle of nerves, although this time he does his best to contain it, as Sing has already got his share of his bad mood...

And then he reaches another stage: let that disaster come already, so that he could go back to familiar state of being unhappy and things being so bad that they at least couldn't be worse.

And the disaster happens indeed, one spring evening, after dinner the three of them have. Blanca stumbles as if he's dizzy after having too much wine, bumping into Yue-lung and pushing him right at Sing. Sing reacts instinctively and catches him in his arms, but the impact is so strong that they both fell on the carpet. That is, Sing falls, and Yue-lung lands atop of him.

Blanca is muttering words of apology mixed with a comment about growing old and needing to go back into retirement, but Yue-lung isn't listening to him. First, he tries to figure out what has just happened to send him from standing position onto the floor. Then he realizes he's half-lying with his face pressed against Sing's chest and still held by him. He doesn't feel any pain, so he hasn't hurt himself. He tries to get up, doesn't want to crush Sing with his weight, which provokes a quiet moan, although Sing is perfectly still underneath him.

"Did you get hurt?" Yue-lung asks in apprehension, looking at him.

Their faces are very close, and that's probably why Sing averts his eyes. "No..." he says in a hoarse voice.

His hands clasps Yue-lung's shoulders and appear to be trembling. He seems to be trembling all over, his breathing is quick, and his face is red. Yue-lung wants to ask what's happening and what has happened, since it's obvious Sing doesn't feel well... but then he becomes aware of a hard bulge pressing against his hip, and everything starts to make sense, although, at the same time, it doesn't, as he's overwhelmed by the realization his world has just begun to crumble and the last protection he could trust is gone now.

Sing is turned on and desires him.

Yue-lung feels as if all blood has drained from his face. First he freezes, like a mouse in a trap, to move away from Sing and jump up to his feet in the very next second. His throat is clenching as if he's going to suffocate, and his lips start quivering. His eyes are wide, but his head is spinning so much he can't see clearly.

"I'm sorry...!" Sing calls in a breaking voice, getting up as well. "I didn't want..."

Yue-lung puts his hands forwards, showing to stay away from him. Then he turns around and runs out of the dining-room as fast as he can, to the stairs, up the stairs, to his bedroom, to slam the door shut and hide under the bedcover because he's horrified, confused and wishes it was only a dream that he would wake from. If it were a dream, it would be one of those less scary, but as reality it's so frightening that Yue-lung can't imagine anything worse.

He wanted the disaster to come, but now he wants to turn back time and berates himself for being so careless, for not giving a hoot about what might follow. To know that Sing, the only person he's accepted into his life and trusted and learned not to fear... that Sing wants something else - desires his body - shatters all sense of security he's managed to build and almost drives him insane. He's sitting on the bed, shivering all over; he must clench his jaws so that his teeth wouldn't chatter. He feels like crying because the feeling of loss is too painful, too severe. He didn't want to get attached as he knew how painful it would be to lose...

Sing is just like everyone else.

Yue-lung can't imagine what he's going to do. His reality has been stretched on Sing, who entered his life with all guns blazing and unnoticeably became his main support. Without that support everything will have to collapse. 'Oh Sing, why...? Why did it have to be you...?' he asks, pulling his knees up and digging his fingers in his flesh, but he can't really feel any pain or even touch, as if he's retreated deep inside himself, turning into a small, shapeless cloud of emotions, moving confusedly in darkness, surrounded only by fear.

"I'm sorry," comes from behind the door, bringing him back to life, filling him with new terror and making him shiver again. No knocking, no steps, no sounds, only that voice that won't stop and he has to listen to it, although it's oddly distorted to his ears. "I'm sorry for that. It should've never happened, and I feel terrible that it did. I know that whatever I say won't change anything... that I can't make you feel better. I would promise... I promise it won't happen again... but I don't think you'll ever want to see me again. Of course, I'll leave this room, I'll move downstairs. And then, if you decide that, I'll move out of this house.

"I'm sorry I scared you. Despite all I knew about you... despite all you experienced... It shouldn't have happened. I did my best so that it wouldn't happen. I controlled myself all this time. Know this, I never thought of doing anything to you, doing anything against your will. Never. You don't have to be scared of me... but I know it's easy to say. I only want you to know that. I'm aware it's not only about that... but about losing your trust, too. I feel terrible about that, I really do.

"I could say it's just hormones. That at my age my body just reacts to any stimulus. But I would be telling excuses that couldn't repair anything, so I'd rather be honest. I can't stop thinking of you, it's been going on weeks, and I... Yeah, I want to... you know what. But it's not that I just desire... your body. You're the most important person to me, and I'd never want to leave you, I'd like to stay with you, so much... so close it's only possible. I've never felt that about anybody before... I guess it scares you, I don't know why I'm saying this, myself. I only want to apologize to you, I can't do anything else. I don't want you to think I could ever want to hurt you. It's the opposite, it's because I-..."


	20. Chapter 20

Soo-ling bites his lips. He suddenly realizes tears are rolling down his face. He can't say any more, but he knows _what_ he was going to say.

'It's because I love you.'

He keeps gulping; he feels he will burst out crying any moment. He presses his face to his knees and put his arms around his head. Why is it that one realizes how important something was only after losing it? If he'd known what he's just understood - if he'd analyzed that feeling properly, instead of floating on euphoria and excitement - then he would've known he had to do everything to keep his place here. Like he's just said, Yue-lung is the most important man to him; he would be perfectly okay with just staying beside him, as long as possible. Now he feels like the sun went out and the eternal darkness fell. He lost that battle because he didn't even notice when it started.

The room behind his back is silent, not a single sound coming out of it. That deep silence is a cruel answer that forces him to get up and leave, like he promised. He doesn't want to scare Yue-lung more he already did. When he recalls Yue-lung's expression - shock and terror reflecting in his wide eyes, black in nearly white face - his chest clenches with pain and he's certain that image will haunt him until the end of his days. He betrayed Yue-lung's trust, despite being the only person who's ever gained it. He feels like crying again.

Why did it have to happen?

He remembers the scene in the dining-room... and it becomes clear to him that it was arranged. Suddenly, he's furious, anger burning away sorrow and grief. He presses his lips in a thin line, quickly wipes his eyes and heads for Blanca's rooms, almost running. He dashes inside without knocking, then approaches the bodyguard without a word and punches him in the face, as hard as he can, though it doesn't make him feel any better.

"You deserved this!" he says, trying to control his voice. He realizes new tears fill his eyes and he's still close to crying. "As neither he nor I deserved that!"

Then he storms out of this room, of this house, outside, into the spring evening, sniffing and wondering what will he do with his life.

Yue-lung doesn't leave his room tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. From the stage of despairing over his own lot, Soo-ling soon moves to the stage of anxiety. Yet, he doesn't intend to come anywhere near his bedroom; he's not even going upstairs. He must leave it to the servants, who made sure the young master is alive. He wonders how long he can stay here. He should leave, move out as soon as possible... but he just can't do it, so he postpones the decision until later, hoping that Yue-lung will see him, just one last time.

He misses Yue-lung so much it's painful; he's under the impression this load crushing his chest is never going to lift up. The hair treatment is a thing of a past, but he would like to just _see_ him again. He can't imagine leaving here without a single glance at his face... he can't believe that everything is definitely over and Sing Soo-ling was written off from Lee Yue-lung's life. It would be... too cruel, too hard to bear.

He can't remember the last time he felt so helpless... finding himself in a situation without a way out and praying for a miracle. Yet, there's been enough miracles in his life already to expect one more. The whole last year has been his most marvelous time. He's grown as a man, achieved things that had been beyond his grasp before, formed an amazing bond. Has experienced how his presence was essential to somebody else's life. Has fallen in love for the first time...

Was it ironic that not only he became necessary to Yue-lung, but also Yue-lung became necessary to him? Will he always berate himself for spoiling it...?

On the third day, when he's becoming more and more convinced he has nothing to do here, a miracle happens. For two days, Yue-lung wasn't there, and then he appears the third morning. He stands in the door of the room Soo-ling moved in. He's pale and looks tired, but he doesn't seem to have spent two days in bed - or he's just decided to get up today and return to life. His hair is washed and tied on the nape of his neck - the days when Soo-ling used to look after it seem completely unreal now, as if they'd happen in another world - and his clothes are fresh. He's standing in the door and looking at him in silence. His gaze is focused, his expression serious, but there's no terror in it.

Soo-ling is only looking back, convinced it's just a dream. Yet that surge of emotion coming on him is perfectly real. He's filled with joy and despair, and he feels like laughing and crying at the same time. He's happy to see him and scared that it's the final time. His hands begin to tremble, he bites his lips and looks away, then looks at him again, wiping his eyes and feeling the most miserable man in the world. And he knows he wouldn't give this moment for anything because he loves Yue-lung with all his heart and is happy just because of his presence here.

Finally, Yue-lung enters the room and closes the door behind, then approaches the coach to sit down next to him. Again, Soo-ling starts to doubt it's really happening. Yue-lung is sitting right by him, his back is straight and his eyes fixed ahead. Soo-ling turns to him... and then move backwards, to the end of the coach, because, despite all promises, he can't trust himself while he knows he _must_ control himself now. Yue-lung's eyelashes quiver in a blink, but he still won't turn his head and Soo-ling is looking at his perfect profile.

"I thought it over," Yue-lung speaks in a quiet voice, then gulps and blinks a few times again. "Sing, I don't want you to leave. I can't manage without you. I can't imagine my life without you. I thought it over," he repeats. "You did nothing wrong, and I... I'm not scared of you. I have no reason to fear you. So don't leave," he asks in a whisper.

Soo-ling listens and doesn't believe what he's hearing, as suddenly he has the impression Yue-lung could as well confess his love. Once more, he feels it's just a beautiful dream that will end any moment, especially when Yue-lung continues. "And if you really want me then... then I don't mind," he says. "I'm not scared of you and... and I trust you. So we can do it." And then he moves his hand in his direction and finally turns his head to look at him, very shyly.

Soo-ling feels he's floating in some strange space, detached from the world he's been familiar with. He can't think clearly; he can barely process the words he's heard. Yue-lung is giving him his permission... invitation... and it sets him aflame at once, fire consuming all reason and promises, leaving only desire, and his greatest desire is to take Yue-lung in his arms, like he dreamt of it for weeks, to erase the distance and get them as close as possible. And when he finally holds him - pressing that lean body to his own, inhaling the scent of his skin and touching his hair with his lips - he has once more that incredible feeling he was born only for that.

It takes him a while to understand something is wrong. And though it requires all his strength, he leans back to look at Yue-lung's face... and when he does, he's filled with despair and can only moan, "But you're not even here...!"

* * *

Yue-lung has no memory of what his tormentors used to do to him. The first time - the first rape - was so traumatic he pushed it out of his mind and then, every next time, he would retreat deep inside himself, detach from his body and soul in order to not feel or think. It was like being off, asleep, dead. Pain, sense of being violated, and touch of other hands - he could remember them but only vaguely, as they were dulled, almost concerning someone else. It wasn't any conscious behavior only automatic reaction of his psyche and body, triggered by lust driven touch... the only rescue from the torture he couldn't really escape. It wasn't before everything was over - when no-one touched him any longer and he was on his own again - that he could return to himself and reality.

It happens now, too; he feels nothing disturbs his inviolacy anymore, so he goes back to the present, to the situation he excluded himself from. He can see and hear again, and is in control of his body. He looks around and see Sing, who is sitting at the end of the coach with his legs up, his face pressed to his knees and arms put around. Judging from the state of things, nothing happened. Why...?

He becomes scared. "Sing...?" he asks in hesitation and then gulps. "Sing, don't reject me..." he whispers as his throat is clenching. "Don't leave me...!"

Sing hunches even more, his fingers clutching at the fabric of his jeans. "You really think I could do something like that...?" he utters.

"But that's what you wanted," Yue-lung says, feeling miserable. "And I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay. I want... So if I can give you something... It's all right. I don't mind it..."

"You got it all wrong again!" Sing says in a strangled voice, lifting his head; his eyes are full of tears. "It's exactly like the last year. I said that I don't want you to sacrifice yourself... to treat yourself like a thing... a transaction."

"It's not that, Sing...!" Yue-lung protests. "I really want... I really don't mind you. I want that it is _you._ "

Sing stares at him for a longer while, blinking. "But you hate it," he says in the end. "You hate it so much that... It's like you've left this place altogether...!"

"Don't let it bother you. Just do what you want with me, I don't even-"

Now Sing seems offended. "How could I not be bothered by that?! It's like... like raping you in sleep...!" he calls. "Do you really think I'd like that?! I want... I want us both... It can't be a one-sided pleasure...!"

Yue-lung says nothing. He hunches with his eyes fixed on the floor. The idea of having pleasure from sex is a total abstract, something unimaginable to him. Yet, he's aware that his body can give that kind of pleasure to others... to Sing, and that's what he really wants because Sing wants it and if he doesn't get it...

"Are you going to leave?" he asks in a dull voice and is amazed he was brave enough to ask. Maybe he's already tired of things not being clear... especially that usually it was him to blame for that.

Sing, however, answers at once, "I'm not...!" and there's some panic to his words.

Yue-lung drives away the sudden feeling of relief as nothing is certain yet. "It will be difficult for you," he says. "Of course, my offer is still va-"

"I won't do it," Sing interrupts him. "Forget about it. I won't have... sex with you in this situation. It's out of question."

"Why?" Yue-lung asks involuntarily, glancing at him.

Sing averts his eyes. "'Cause it's not really about sex," he mutters.

"Why?" Yue-lung asks once more.

Sing hunches. "'Cause I just want to stay with you," he says, pulling his head in his shoulders. "You're the most important person to me," he adds in a hoarse voice.

Yue-lung feels his heart accelerate. "Why...?" he asks in a whisper, unable to speak aloud, but he knows he must ask because he's never want to know something more that this.

Sing turns his head to look at him, his gaze hesitating, anxious and uncertain at first... but then all doubt vanishes from his eyes, and he suddenly appears older and mature, and much stronger he seemed just a moment ago.

"'Cause I love you."

Yue-lung blinks, realizing he _is_ surprised, after all. He did wonder about it many times - putting Sing together with 'someone to love him', mentioned by Blanca - but it's a different thing to have it said aloud. So he's amazed that Sing could say it... could feel it... could say it and feel it for _him_. He wouldn't believe it as he doesn't deserve it... he wouldn't believe it if he didn't know that Sing is capable of loving. And that's why he doesn't ask why.

"Is that something to cry about?" he hears Sing's voice and realizes he can't see clearly because his eyes are full of tears indeed.

"I can't help being a weak crybaby," he replies, shocking himself, and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.

"It sounds familiar," Sing mutters, averting his eyes. "You won't tell me to get away now?"

Yue-lung shakes his head and sniffs. "No," he utters. "Sing, but I... I can't..."

Sing stares at him again, his gaze resolved, although he seems to be holding back his emotion himself. He moves to the edge of the coach and puts his legs down on the floor. "Not another word," he says flatly; he could as well point a finger at Yue-lung. "Now that everything is clear, I won't tolerate any doubts. You said you don't want me to leave, so don't expect me to. I'm going to stay with you no matter what... as long as you wish... maybe even longer. You can't chase me away, so don't even try. I promise I won't hurt you, and I won't let anybody hurt you. And one day..." He lowers his head, and his hands clench at the fabric of his jeans. When he resumes talking, his words are quiet and trembling, "One day we'll do something about your problem. I'm going to make sure that... that you'll enjoy it as well."

And Yue-lung stares at him in silence... to only nod in the end. "All right," he says.

Right now, he's able to fully believe him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, two-thirds is done! Now I'm leaving for my summer holiday, and the story is going on break. It will continue in late August. In the meantime, I'll be happy to read your comments!


	21. Chapter 21

The night following the events in the dining-room, Yue-lung can't sleep at all; he only lies in the darkness, alternately wishing to vanish and praying for help to unspecified gods. Fear makes him unable to calm down even for a single moment, and it seems to him he'll never get rid of it. Actually, it's not particularly Sing he fears - even though the guy could enter his bedroom any moment - only that nightmare his reality suddenly turned into. He has no idea how he will manage from now on; future appears as something utterly frightening and unbearable. Telling himself he still has Blanca doesn't help in the slightest; he's perfectly certain Blanca will never be able to replace Sing... and there's something about this conclusion that only makes his fear stronger.

Sing really is someone essential to life for him.

The morning finally comes; he somehow managed to last until now still sane... and he thinks it's because of the words he heard from behind the door and remembered. Well, maybe not even the words themselves, only the message... as well as remorse and care that were in them. What is strange, Yue-lung believes fully they were genuine. In case of any other person, he would consider it an act, a deception, but Sing, of all people, wasn't false. Yue-lung could lose faith in everything else but not Sing's honesty. If Sing said he was sorry, then he really was. If he apologized for having scared him, then he really must feel guilty. If he promised to never hurt him, then it is something to be trusted. If he admitted he's been desiring him for a while... Um, better not to think of it.

In the morning, Yue-lung gets some two hours of sleep, and when he wakes up, he is slightly better. He's still scared, he still feels that the world is a terrible place, and he still doesn't dare to leave his bedroom, but he realizes now that he hasn't been afraid of Sing at any point. He is somewhat astonished to discover it... but not so much. Before, he would need very little to change his attitude; the most trifle thing or the smallest proof of dislike would make him start loathing a person despite having been neutral about them earlier. He probably could never trust in someone's good will and always expected to be betrayed, and betrayal would, of course, lead to hatred.

Now, however, despite his reality having turned upside down because of Sing, it seems to him that Sing himself didn't change... that his own feelings about Sing didn't change. Even though, at first, he was certain their path diverged forever - how could things be normal after all that? - the next morning he knows that in his head Sing is still the same man he was only twenty-four hours ago. And when he admits it, he feels much better because he can again focus on all traits, good traits, that make Sing someone exceptional, at least in his eyes.

Sing is cheeky and easily gets angry, he can also be naive and is all too good-hearted - although recently it hasn't been so visible - but for some reason those features don't make him weak, quite the contrary. And even though Yue-lung doesn't intend to praise him for those traits, he's been aware for a while now that it's only because of them that Sing stays with him, so he must accept them. Then again, impulsive and credulous is not all that Sing is; he's also very smart and, although he's not a genius, he has an excellent intuition that enables him to assess the situation and quickly make the right choice. He's confident but not conceited. He's proud but capable of admitting his mistakes, too. He's open-minded and forms his own opinion about people instead of acting on prejudice. Above all, he's very empathetic person who likes and understands others, although he can also feel justified resentment. He's so different from Yue-lung who can only hate; the dragons cannot love, and devour everyone around them.

Beyond doubt, Sing is the best thing that has ever happened to him.

Yue-lung spends the next two days wondering how to solve the problem; he must decide on something before Sing takes and leaves, which is quite possible. One thing is clear to him: he's not going to give up on Sing - but how to get the situation back to normal after what happened? At times, he almost comes to the conclusion his reaction was too violent and disproportionate. But it's not like he can ignore what he learned - that Sing would like to sleep with him - especially after Sing admitted it himself... that he wanted him for some time now...

On the one hand, Yue-lung wishes he could say it's nothing. After all, many people have desired him so far, and he knows well why. Even though he's never wanted it, sex appeal is one of his weapons, is a tool and strength; it is likely he uses it without thinking, too. Putting everything else aside, he can understand that Sing too may desire him. Even though Yue-lung didn't plan it, he may have stirred such urge in him unconsciously, merely with his behavior.

On the other hand, he knows it's not 'nothing'. Sex is the last thing Yue-lung wants, and besides... How can it be reconciled with friendship? With trust? With sense of security? With all that has been between Sing and him, so unlike everything he experienced with people who had his body before? Sex means being hurt, mistreated and scared, while there's nothing bad, no suffering, about his relationship with Sing. Sing has become someone special to him exactly because he never considered Yue-lung as an object of desire.

Sing probably realizes it all himself. If he wanted to convince Yue-lung of anything during that speech from behind the door, it was that he's never wanted and never will hurt him. He seemed genuinely devastated by what had happened, and felt guilty about it. And, like always, he put Yue-lung before himself. Yue-lung knows he can trust his promise. That if Sing says he's not going to do anything, it will be so.

But is it really _okay?_

He doubts it because one thing that Sing said makes him more confused than anything else: 'You're the most important person to me, and I'd like to stay with you.' He doesn't know how to understand it - maybe it scares him to even try to - but he does realize that if Sing wants him so much, not only his body but also his soul, then it will be difficult for him to be happy with just Yue-lung's presence, regardless of all declarations and promises. And in that case, he will sooner or later be sick of it and leave. It's obvious and logical.

Yue-lung knows he can't let it happen. The more time passes since that event, the stronger his need to always have Sing beside and the greater his fear that Sing might disappear... and the more he's convinced he must give _something_ , even though he can give very little, in fact. He's a dragon, he can't love, he can't feel any warm feelings, so the only thing he can give is his body. It fills him with disgust, but he knows at least as much that Sing won't hurt him. He's not scared of Sing; what he fears like hell is that he might lose him.

He tries not to remember that last year when he tried to fix things between the two of them the very same way and it almost ended in a disaster; that situation was different. That time, offering his body was misplaced, but this time it's exactly about desire and sex. It's true that in the last months he's started to slowly believe that he will never be forced to sexual intercourse again, but if doing it could keep Sing by his side, then it wasn't too much of a price.

On the third day, he decides not to tarry any longer. Sing left the adjacent room, like he's promised, but fortunately he's still in the house... although, if he'd moved out, Yue-lung would find him anyway and convince to come back. Upon seeing him - the man he's been thinking nonstop for two days - he's filled with so many emotions that suddenly he can't say a thing; he just stands there and looks at him silently. Judging from Sing's expression, it's mutual. That moment, Yue-lung can't resist the impression they will be much better off together than apart.

* * *

But everything went wrong.

Sing flatly refused to have sex with him. He promised to stay with him. He said he loved him. And he guaranteed that they would both enjoy it.

Yue-lung was once more surprised by the fact reality could be better than his imagination. Yet, he believed everything.

* * *

'It's very strange,' Soo-ling would like to say but keeps quiet. It's strange that after all that happened the two of them are still here and together. It's strange that he could confess his feelings and Yue-lung didn't push him away. It's strange that this situation is terribly awkward and yet neither of them wants to end it.

But much more than strange he feels happy because he's managed to get back what he almost lost forever. And even though in any other moment he would suspect that Yue-lung - the greatest manipulator and deceiver in the world - isn't honest with him, now he can tell that at least that his wish for the two of them to be together is real. He decides to focus only on that, and it's only that - so much - that is enough for him now; he can think about everything else later.

They keep sitting on the two ends of the couch, barely able to look at each other. Soo-ling is the first to calm down, as much as it's possible after two days of stress and several weeks of excitement. Yue-lung wipes his tears every now and then; he looks so miserable that Soo-ling would give everything to hold him and comfort.

Yet, he finally raises his head to look at him - despite all tragedies, or maybe because of them, Yue-lung is a very strong man - and asks in a perfectly composed voice, "Then, what would you like from me?"

"To handle your hair again," Soo-ling replies without thinking and then is amazed by that answer.

Yue-lung seems equally perplexed, but he only nods. "You want that everything is like before," he guesses, and Soo-ling realizes it himself: he wants that everything is like it's been the previous year.

Except one thing. "But get rid of that guy," he says with a frown. He doesn't care if he sounds like a jealous person. "We don't need him."

Yue-lung gives him a serious look and this time shakes his head.

"Why not?" Soo-ling asks. "I'm more than enough to protect you. You don't trust my skills?"

"Sing... I don't want you to protect me," Yue-lung replies in a quiet voice, averting his eyes. "It's not why you're here. Blanca is my bodyguard, and you are... someone Blanca could never be," he adds in a whisper.

Soo-ling stares at him in silence. Again, he has that funny impression that Yue-lung is trying to tell him something that he doesn't even realize himself. He feels like blushing, and he looks away. "But I'm not eating with him anymore," he declares ostentatiously, folding his arms like a sulking kid.

"Fine," Yue-lung replies, clearly unwilling to argue.

Soo-ling glances at him again. "Everything okay?" he asks with concern, driving away the thought he will have to stay with Blanca under the same roof for some longer, apparently, no matter how much he despised the guy. Ah, to hell with him!

Yue-lung glances back at him. "I am fine," he replies. "But-"

"Don't worry about me, I'll manage," Soo-ling interrupts him. He still feels uneasy at the thought of what happened a moment ago... when he almost did with Yue-lung what he wanted to do... That is, he wouldn't have done it, of course, not in this situation...! He just...

Yue-lung straightens up and looks at him with a frown. "But you know you have my consent," he says what he already said before.

"Why?" Soo-ling asks, though he knows he shouldn't even touch that subject, for his own good. Even if his will is strong, his body is weak... and still on fire. "Do you really pity me so much?" he adds and then feels like biting his tongue.

Now Yue-lung raises his brows. "Of course I don't!" he replies, clearly offended, and Soo-ling realizes he's missed that tone terribly. It's much better than sadness and dejection.

"Then why?"

"I told you I'd like to do it with you."

"Seriously?"

Now Yue-lung stares at him like at a half-wit... but then his eyes fill with guilt - as if he's been caught lying - and he looks away. "All right, maybe not 'I'd like' only 'I could," he mutters.

"I think it's the first time you admit what you really thought," Soo-ling says without thinking and feels like laughing. It seems like ages since the last time he laughed.

Yue-lung presses his lips in a thin line but leaves it without any comment. Instead, when he looks at him again - and at the space between them - he says with sarcasm, "So now you plan to keep a safe distance of five feet between us?"

"Six would be better, just in case," Soo-ling replies. "You don't like to be touched. Now I even know how much."

"Then, how do you want to make it that I enjoy that, too?" Yue-lung asks in the same voice as before, but a slight blush appears on his face. "Not with a stick, right?"

"I'll work on it," Soo-ling assures him, wondering how come he's able to talk about it so easily. Maybe it's because he considers himself a man of a word. And once something was said aloud, there's no point in getting embarrassed about it.

"Some kind of action at a distance? Psychokinetic skills?" Yue-lung keeps inquiring with a faked curiosity. "You must forgive me for having considered you quite a down-to-earth person until now."

Soo-ling can't remember the last time he heard him joking. Now he must burst out laughing... and the next second he is delighted upon seeing a smile stretching Yue-lung's lips.

"I promise to do it properly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from my holiday and in a home quarantine. The only good thing about it is that I have time to finish the story; it should be done within two weeks :) But do you still follow it?
> 
> By the way, when on holiday I rewatched BF (with my friend and big amount of alcohol to bear it). My bad opinion about that anime still holds, now even more than before, but I also noticed that there was no bad scene, no waste of screen time whenever Yue or Sing appeared <3 Yue is still the most fascinating character in that story, but what's new is that it's Sing that I now LOVE completely. My affection for him simply skyrocketed when I saw him again. You know, after the first watch, I considered him mainly as someone Yue needs in life, but now I actually paid attention to him during the whole series and was delighted to no end. He's such an admirable character!!!


	22. Chapter 22

As Yue-lung pretty much demanded, Soo-ling returns upstairs and everything can really be like before. And just like Yue-lung promised, Blanca is no longer invited to eat with them. The mafia boss still sees him at tea - Soo-ling wishes he knew what those two talk about, and then again he quite doesn't - but most of the time the bodyguard stays in his rooms without showing him face around. Actually, Soo-ling is too happy to be bothered with Blanca, hard as he finds to believe his happiness. Yet, every attempt to bring himself down to earth ends in failure, so he keeps floating in that peculiar daze that makes him believe he's capable of absolutely everything.

Everything could have gone wrong, but the miracle happened and the two of them are still here, like they were before. Soo-ling once thought he was satisfied with his life, but now he realizes he was just being a kid who had no idea about happiness. Staying with Yue-lung fills him with ecstatic joy, and despite being unable to experience any carnal pleasure, too, at least not together. Apparently, like he concludes in a moment of hopeless sentimentality, the more important things are in heart and one could be happy without going to bed right away.

However, he promised they _would_ go to bed and that it would be entirely different from everything Yue-lung experienced before. He declared that they both would enjoy it. Soo-ling has no idea about man-sex, but he has imagination and his own body can pretty much teach him a thing or two; if the worst comes to the worst, he will somehow obtain knowledge from a third party. The real problem is making Yue-lung accept being touched without 'switching off'. Soo-ling is certain that having sex with somebody who doesn't experience it is out of question for him. That moment when he gave in to desire, only to notice he could as well hold a dead body in his arms, shook him to the core and helped him understand that it shouldn't be like that. He won't let it happen ever again.

They talked about it a bit. Yue-lung confirmed what Soo-ling had already realized himself: that it doesn't occur _every_ time he's being touched, only when the touch is lust driven. After all, they happened to hold hands or casually touch each other before, for all Soo-ling tried to avoid it... maybe even too much, haha. In the end, the only conclusion he reaches is that he must get Yue-lung _used_ to him, also in a physical manner, no matter how difficult or time-consuming it might be. It is the first stage, and the next will be to make Yue-lung feel like doing it, too.

Soo-ling is aware that the latter will be much harder to achieve. During the conversation they had after those two horrible days of separation, he realized that for Yue-lung sexual intimacy meant only pain and suffering. It is likely that Yue-lung never had any pleasure from sex, maybe even didn't feel any sexual desire. When knowing his past, something like that it very easy to understand. Yet, for some reason, he kept on denying that having sex with Soo-ling was a problem; he actually insisted that they did it. Soo-ling isn't courageous enough to inquire about the cause behind that; maybe he doesn't want to force Yue-lung into saying what he fears to hear, 'If we don't do it, you will leave.' He wouldn't leave, of course, but it's not the point here; such words would simply prove that Yue-lung considers sex with him only as a necessary measure, which would be... terribly unpleasant. On the other hand... does Soo-ling really expect Lee Yue-lung to return his feelings? He must be crazy.

Still, he wants to believe that when Yue-lung said, 'I don't mind it to be with _you_ ,' he really meant that. Even if, of the two, Soo-ling is the one to talk about feelings and declare love, he knows as much that Yue-lung got attached to him, too, as much as it's possible for someone like him. Soo-ling long ago ceased to see him as an empty, selfish person incapable of any deeper emotion. However, he must accept that the two of them have different ways of feeling and displaying those feelings, just like they are two different people.

In any case, he has no choice but to start executing his plan. What helps him in it is, again, Yue-lung's divine hair. After a few days of perfectly correct and proper handling it - it takes all his might to control his body because its touch every time sends shivers down his spine - Soo-ling begins to deliberately cross the borders he once set. True, he did happen to occasionally brush his fingers against Yue-lung's neck or shoulders, as if by accident, but now he moves in the open, without any intention to hide his feelings.

Like that day when, after doing Yue-lung's hair in a neat knot, he puts the comb down and touches the man's earlobes and then moves his fingers down, gently and firmly at the same time, along the line of his neck, all the way to the collar of his shirt. Yue-lung reacts with a tremble, but before he turns back, Soo-ling already took his hands away. Another time he cups Yue-lung's face from behind and kisses the top of his head, and the next day he dares to kiss his ear. Another day, still holding a comb, he brushes his hair to the side and kisses his neck, just like he dreamt of it for a while. When doing it, he must only keep himself from repeating, 'I love you,' hard as it is. But he said it once, and it seems to him it should do.

Every time, Yue-lung reacts with a tremble, often with a soft cry, too, and sometimes he even calls his name in a surprise. Nevertheless, he never objects it nor forbids it, nor scolds Soo-ling. When he turns to look at him, there's no disgust or blankness on his face, nor any negative emotions; there's only astonishment. Sometimes he asks, "Sing, what are you doing?" and Soo-ling answers, "But I have your permission."

Then Soo-ling dares to go further: attack frontally though still unexpectedly. He may suddenly grab Yue-lung's hand and put it to his lips to kiss its back or fingers, or the wrist. Or - well, it's not exactly frontal - embrace him from behind and press his cheek to Yue-lung's cheek for a few seconds. Or - which is hopelessly romantic - suddenly put one arm around Yue-lung's shoulders and kiss his forehead. All that lasts just a moment and they get apart again - it's not easy, but Soo-ling can do it because his will still prevails over his body - but the next occasion will come soon, maybe tomorrow or even the next hour.

Touching Yue-lung who is aware of his desire - and doesn't object - is intoxicating... and very satisfying. It forms yet another bond between the two of them, a new quality that wasn't there before: intimacy. And every time Soo-ling does so, he has that funny feeling of acceptation that he didn't need earlier. Now he is delighted by that impression of doing the right thing; it adds self-confidence. On the other hand, he becomes more and more aware how much he wishes to go further... to take Yue-lung in his arms and never let him go, to kiss every part of his body and make the two of them become one. It's like he said before: Yue-lung means a world to him, and Soo-ling wants him all to himself. He looks forward to the day when he really will get him. He doesn't allow himself the thought it will never happen.

Actually, this situation - instead of frustrating him - gives him some perverse pleasure, but maybe it's because his euphoria just continues. He's never considered himself to be a patient person - usually, he always takes what he wants right away - but now it seems to him he will wait as long as needed to achieve his goal. He's motivated by the feeling it will be worth it... and if it helps to polish his character, too, then all the better.

Sometimes he comes to the conclusion he became an incurable optimist. 'I think you've always been one,' Yue-lung commented in a reserved voice, raising his eyebrows, one time Soo-ling happened to mention it aloud. It was more embarrassing than everything they've done so far.

* * *

After a few weeks of spring, Sergei is certain that, just as he hoped, Yue-lung and Sing's relationship entered a new stage. After his intervention - Yue-lung didn't even notice it, and Sing paid him with a punch in the face for it - the young men worked yet another problem out and the things are getting only better... at least, Sergei wants to see it that way. Nevertheless, the mafia boss seems to feel pretty well indeed, and he appears focused on his life. As for Sing, Sergei hardly ever meets him as the boy keeps avoiding him, and when they happen to pass each other in the corridor, Sing ostentatiously looks away. Sergei is positive he's never seen such a persistent animosity in the young Chinese - he probably didn't even expect him to be capable of it, in the first place - and he finally starts to feel guilty about it. He's always respected Sing, so now he's weighted upon by realization that, despite his good intentions and even better results, he made the boy furious and... well, hurt him.

In April, when Yue-lung is having a teleconference with the management of the syndicate in his office and Sing has yet to leave to his morning training in the gym, Sergei goes to the latter's room in order to have a man-to-man conversation. He knocks at the open door and then enters. Sing is packing his bag but, upon seeing him, straightens up and gives him a glare. Sergei is struck by the thought there's no much left of a kid in Sing; he hasn't noticed it until now, but it makes him happy.

They stand in silence for a moment, and then Sing announces, "I'm not going to thank you," just as Sergei says, "I wanted to apologize."

Sing blinks in astonishment before frowning even more and clenching his fists. "To _me?_ " he asks, clearly trying to remain calm. "It's him you should apologize to...! Do you have any idea how he must've felt because of you...? That is..." he lowers his voice, "because of me... But it was all your fault!" he adds aggressively.

Sergei revises his opinion: Sing is still on his path to becoming an adult... but it doesn't change the fact he's a wonderful person. He smiles. "You really love him," he says, trying to put all his admiration into these words.

Sing opens his mouth and then shuts it again. He looks away, with a blush creeping onto his cheeks. His embarrassment is charming, and it doesn't make him look weak at all.

"Everything turned out okay," Sergei says amicably.

"I'm not going to thank you!" Sing repeats; his embarrassment burned in his anger at once.

"I don't even expect that," Sergei replies calmly. "I only want you to know I didn't do it in order to make either of you feel bad."

"So you failed," Sing mutters, folding his arms. "Though, like you said, everything turned out okay. For now. But not thanks to you!" he emphasizes.

"Of course not thanks to me," Sergei agrees because it's the right thing to do.

Sing casts a mistrustful look at him. "We would be fine without you, too. I knew it right from the beginning," he informs.

Sergei stifles his laughter. "In any case, let me say this: you're doing things right."

Now Sing snorts in disbelief. "You know what? Go back to the Caribbean already. Don't you miss home?"

"You're doing things right, so keep it up," Sergei repeats.

"I don't need your advice!" Sing calls in exasperation, shaking his head. "If you don't shut up, I'll punch you again."

Sergei sits down on the armrest of the coach. "I will, but I'd like you to listen to me one last time," he requests. "And I promise to never interfere with your affairs again. All right?"

Sing glowers at him but doesn't object, which Sergei considers as a consent. "You're probably right when you blame me," he says. "I took advantage of my position of someone who looks from the outside and sees more and has the unique monopoly on interfering without suffering any consequences. That's why," he continues in a pressing voice, ignoring Sing's comment, 'You're an awful man, you realize it?', "I did it. However, now I understand that it's you two who suffered the consequences. I acted on the rule that the end justifies the means but, like you pointed out, I made you feel bad. It wasn't right, and I apologize to you for that."

"It's him you should apologize to!" Sing calls like before.

Sergei remains silent for a moment. "He didn't even notice what happened," he says in the end.

"Worse for you. You must apologize and _explain_ what you did wrong," Sing states with satisfaction.

"Fine," Sergei acquiesces to it, holding back a sigh.

Sing looks closely at him for a longer while and then winces. "You don't even like him, right?" he says in disbelief, bitterly.

Sergei averts his eyes. He forgot that Sing _is_ sharp. "In any case, I want him to be happy, and I know he can be happy with you. I said it many times before, and you just kept proving me right with your actions. You're the best thing that has ever happened to him, Sing. So I just want to ask that you stay with him. As long as he needs it."

"No need to worry about it," Sing declares in a cool voice. "But let me tell you one thing: contrary to you, I don't consider staying with him to be a duty or some mission. It's not that only he needs me, while I would be better off with someone else. I wouldn't."

Sergei smiles again. "Sing, you're much better human being than I."

"Will you stop it already? I don't believe a single word you say," Sing swears, looking to the side. "Besides, it's not so hard to be better than you," he adds under his breath.

Sergei laughs. "Then, let's forget comparisons: you're one of the best people I've ever known."

Sing frowns and glances at him. "Why are you telling me all that?" he finally asks, and this time there's no aggression in his voice.

"Because that's what I think and because you deserve it," Sergei explains sincerely and with great affection. "I'm glad I could meet you, Sing Soo-ling. You're someone I want to wish only good things. But I'm perfectly sure you will be fine as you know what love is, and love... Love turns boys into men."

And to this Sing has no answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, the last of Blanca's wisdom doesn't belong to him; I borrowed it from "Eve no nemuri", Yoshida's third manga happening in this universe. Moreover, its meaning is probably different from what I tried to convey here, but to hell with that.


	23. Chapter 23

Yue-lung is in the state of permanent puzzlement; he has no idea what to think of the current situation and how to relate to it. After Sing's revelation - after Sing confessed his feelings to him - he was certain nothing more shocking could happen, and yet in the last days... weeks even, Sing proved him to pretty much lack imagination.

Yue-lung never expected Sing, of all people, to behave the way he currently does, with all those repeated and surprising caresses. Those brief touches, those light kisses, those short hugs he's been showered with... He only knows they don't stir any reluctance or insecurity in him. There's no wrong in them; it's the opposite, they seem to convey Sing's care and concern and that declared... _love_.

Yue-lung is of the opinion he doesn't deserve it at all. One who does not love cannot be loved either; he was once told that and believes those words. And yet Sing claims to love him and expresses it in his gestures, his eyes, and his smile. He acts as if Lee Yue-lung were his greatest treasure and greatest happiness. Yue-lung can't just get it, no matter how he tries. No-one ever told him that there's no point in rationalizing the feelings.

At the same time, he's filled with growing sense of guilt. Here the days and weeks pass, and Sing makes do only with those slight acts of affection and doesn't reach for more, despite undoubtedly wanting it; Yue-lung can tell it from the tension of his muscles and quick breathing, or even sense it physically if their bodies happen to come into contact. Yue-lung was serious when he offered himself that day; he thought they would go to bed, and Sing would do what he yearned for and become satisfied. It would be so simple and logical, and right... and yet Sing decided on something completely different. How long is he going to last?

The more time passes, the more is Yue-lung disturbed by this state of things. Sing's restraint unnerves him, but it's also... concerning? He's under the impression Sing torments himself... exposes himself to discomfort, putting Yue-lung's needs before his own. Soon, these two emotions obscure everything else, and Yue-lung realizes there's only one way to get rid of them: he must make Sing finally break down. That idea starts to harass him like an obsession; in the end, he decides to take matters into his own hands, as much as it's up to him.

Over the last years, he's mastered the subtle art of seduction perfectly.

He knows by experience that even men who desire other men never object to their lover's feminine demeanor. Many times was Yue-lung given into hands of the men of different age and different background, and yet every time his delicate looks, women's garment, pinned up hair and make-up drove them crazy and provoked lust. He doesn't believe Sing to be any exception, and thus he now renews his acquaintance with patterned tunics and dresses, and toiletries that were forgotten for a longer while. Incidentally, he realizes that, after a one year break, pampering his inner woman still makes him feel good.

The first time Sing sees him in this new image - one April morning during the breakfast - he turns red and speechless, before averting his eyes and gulping. Yet, he doesn't object it, and Yue-lung knows he hit the jackpot. Well, appearance is just one of the means aiming at driving Sing to the brink; behavior is as, or even more, important. Suggestive looks from under half-closed eyelids and from behind the curled eyelashes, sent over the table or across the room. Tracing his finger around the rim of the glass or up and down its stem. Parting his lips and moving the tip of his tongue over them. Subtle moves and glancing over his shoulder. Yue-lung has long since internalized that others find him pretty and appealing, but it's probably the very first time in his life that he actually wants to make a desirable effect.

He fails miserably. Despite his measures obviously making Sing aroused to no end - he's flushed, has trouble speaking, and his eyes constantly look away - Sing is still strong enough to not give in to his lust. The only thing Yue-lung achieved - but it's not really an achievement, only a total failure - is that all caresses stopped at once. Sing simply doesn't dare to touch him anymore... he doesn't dare to come closer than six feet.

It's terribly frustrating.

In the end, the dresses are returned to the wardrobe, and the make-up cosmetics are shoved back into the closet. Yue-lung tries to cheer himself, saying he at least tried, but it's a weak consolation, as he's used to his action rather bringing success. It takes several days for Sing to agree to handle his hair again, and several more to resume earlier caresses. By then, Yue-lung already started to miss them pretty much.

"You're underestimating me," he hears one morning during the combing, whispered straight into his ear.

"Apparently," he says as quietly, although he felt like huffing and declining at first. "Why don't you want it?"

"I do," Sing replies simply and then kisses his temple. "Someday."

"Now would be better than someday," Yue-lung points out in a murmur.

"Someday," Sing repeats.

One defeat doesn't mean Yue-lung laid down the arms. If sex appeal didn't work, he must try another method and this time use his head; after all, he considers his brains a greater asset than his looks, himself.

* * *

Soo-ling is happy the nightmare ended. Um... maybe it wasn't literally a nightmare since he had much to look at; nevertheless, Yue-lung in his beautified version pretty much tested the limits of his endurance. And Soo-ling thought he was constantly aroused before; now it appeared things could be even worse. Yue-lung with make-up was so damn attractive that Soo-ling had to use all his mental strength to not surrender to passion and jump him. He had no idea he was so controlled; funny how a man can always learn something new about himself...

However, he's absolutely sure that he would break if it continued. It isn't merely about the appearance, only the whole rest; well, Lee Yue-lung certainly knows how to drive somebody crazy. Soo-ling should be happy he didn't fall a prey to his charm before. It's enough that over these last days he had to relieve himself time after time...

Yue-ling, that slick, terrible, beautiful snake, must have tested him, either for his own satisfaction or being unable to resist the urge to take advantage of the situation and bring Soo-ling to his knees... Well, it was so like him, and Soo-ling couldn't really expect anything else. Yet, sometimes he wonder if Yue-lung didn't try to tell him he was... ready? No, it would be too good... and too quick, to begin with. Soo-ling is oddly certain that it takes more than just a few weeks for one to overcome their own phobia... trauma... something. It would be another thing if Yue-lung touched him, but his actions were aimed solely at provoking Soo-ling to touch him instead.

Soo-ling is painfully aware that if Yue-lung touched him, the no arguments, no rationalizing, no noble motives would help; his willpower would vanish right away and nothing would stop him from answering that touch.

* * *

May started, and nothing changed about their situation. Fortunately, Yue-lung didn't make another attempt to seduce him, and Soo-ling himself... well, is happy and drunk with this happiness, although he has no idea what all this will lead to. Yet, he doesn't want to think of distant future; he concentrates on the present, never seeing farther than the moment when he'll be able to fully prove his feelings to Yue-lung. He doesn't ponder how this will affect their respective lives as a head of mafia and a gang leader. He doesn't bother his head asking if it was normal and how they should proceed. Above all, he doesn't wonder if anybody might have anything against it. Whatever they do, it concerns only the two of them.

That being said, he is sometimes embarrassed to catch himself thinking of taking Yue-lung on a date. He must sit down and wait until it goes away; the thought they may run into his mom again usually quickly helps to drive such silly ideas away.

Of course, the apparent calm wasn't long, but Soo-ling can blame only himself. One evening, as he returns from the gym and drinks the tea prepared for him, his endurance... no, his _patience_ is sorely tested, more than ever before. It takes only a moment to realize something strange is happening to his body. No, not exactly strange - that particular sensation has long since become familiar to him - but such a violent surge of lust that overcomes him isn't normal. His heart begins to pound in his chest. He gasps for air as his breathing quickens. His mouth turns dry, and he can no longer see clearly. He feels weak, as if all his strength vanished... and whole energy - and sensation - focused in a single point. He is so hard it's painful, and he can't think of anything else than follow his need. It's after a few moments that he manages to gather his thought and connect the dots, seeing as his brain turned into mush.

"You slipped me something," he says to Yue-lung, who's just entered the room, although he actually feels like moaning... especially that Yue-lung is wearing only a thin robe. "Goddamn bloody bastard...! How could you do it to me...?"

Yue-lung says nothing; instead, he sits down on the armrest of the coach and looks him in the eye, and Soo-ling thinks he can see an invitation in his gaze. He can't contain a moan, though he feels like crying at the same time... but that impression disappears the next moment, scorched in lust like anger before. Soon, there's only lust left. Yue-lung leans over him, his hair tickling Soo-ling's bare arms, he's so close that the scent of his skin can be smelled. Soo-ling clenches his teeth, digging his fingers into padding, but he can't look away. More than anything he wants to raise his arms and pull Yue-lung down on his lap and kiss him, and then get into him to appease his desire. He wants it like never before, can't think of anything else. If he doesn't give in to that need, he will die a painful death, burn in the fire of passion... Yue-lung shuts his eyes and parts his lips, and Soo-ling thinks he's going to suffocate or fall to pieces or...

With the last of his strength... no, with some reserve he didn't know about, he leaps out of the couch and storms out of the room, though his legs seem like wool and he's terribly dizzy. Blindly, he rushes to the bathroom in the end of the corridor to jerk off, and when it doesn't help - when he still feels the overwhelming desire - he goes to the shower and turns on the cold water. He stays there some fifteen minutes, trying to not think of anything. After that, he gets slightly better, but he still can feel the tingling under the skin... and his body soon demands pleasure again 'cause that cursed substance is still in his system. He has no choice but to deal with it... keep dealing with it until it ends.

"Sing...?"

Soo-ling suppresses a moan. With Yue-lung outside he has no chance to calm down... "Go away!"

"Sing, I'm sorry..." there's remorse in Yue-lung's voice but it doesn't help a bit.

"You stupid idiot...! You really want me... to rape you... so much?! Go away... or I'll have to... stay here for... the rest of my life... you son of the bitch...!" he pants, stroking himself at the same time. He hopes that at least that argument will work.

Fortunately, it does. Still, it's only some hour later that Soo-ling manages to get his body under control again, and that hour seemed like eternity. He's under the impression he's had enough of carnal pleasure for a month, at least. He should be happy he didn't lose or sprain anything. He feels completely battered, both in soul and body, and he only wants to sleep. He spends the night on the coach downstairs. There are several reasons why he wants to keep away from Yue-lung.

In the morning, Yue-lung still appears properly repentant, but Soo-ling finds it difficult to believe his good will and remorse. But could he expect anything else? Lee Yue-lung won't stop being himself only because somebody fell in love with him. All in all, the atmosphere is quite tense and the meal proceeds in silence.

"Why do you reject me all the time?" Yue-lung finally asks. "Do you know how I feel with it?"

Soo-ling stares at him in disbelief. His anger is rekindled. "And do you know how I feel after you made me drink some bloody aphrodisiac?" he answers with a question. "So don't you dare to play a victim here."

Yue-lung hunches in his place, and Soo-ling feels his anger disappear. Sure, he's still mad for what happened yesterday, but... He can't help loving him. And when one loves, he wants only to see positives.

"Look, it's not like I don't want you, okay?" he says, suppressing a sigh. "You know that. You know I want you. I can't think of anything but that. I just... It shouldn't be like that. Promise me you won't ever try to force me into doing it again. I don't want that it happens by force, understand? We'll do it when we're both ready, no sooner. Otherwise I will never forgive you... No, I'll never forgive _myself_. Okay?"

"How would you know when I am ready?" Yue-lung asks with offence.

"I will," Soo-ling answers calmly. "So... please. It's the only thing I ask."

Yue-lung glances at him before averting his eyes. Then he nods. "All right," he says in a quiet, resigned voice. "When we're both ready. _Someday._ Maybe." Then he looks at him again. "You are ready all the time. Too bad it doesn't rub off."

"Maybe it will," Soo-ling says with a blush and stares at the table.

The silence falls again, but it no longer seems so awkward; they've managed to regain that bond of intimacy that was created over the last weeks. Besides... Soo-ling is still a hopeless optimist who sees only the best things; now, for example, it appears to him as if Yue-lung really _wished_ he could make love with him...

"Until then," Yue-lung's voice breaks his reverie again, "why don't you do something about it? About being ready. You're only tormenting yourself."

"But I do," Soo-ling mutters. "Many times a day."

"I'm asking why don't you do it with someone else," Yue-lung says flatly.

Soo-ling's head snaps up. He's positive that even what happened yesterday didn't hurt him as much as that suggestion. With somebody else...? How could Yue-lung even propose that?

"I'm not a dog in heat," he declares with dignity that maybe doesn't fit the topic itself. "Besides... Would you like me to do it with somebody else?"

Yue-lung averts his eyes, and it's a sufficient answer. "You're only tormenting yourself," he repeats, but his voice is much weaker now.

"I can handle it alone. As long as it takes," Soo-ling assures him, filled with joy and relief... first positive emotions since yesterday. Actually, he feels so good that he must smile. When Yue-lung glances at him again, he says with full confidence, "Of course I can handle it myself since I... I love you and want you to be my first."


	24. Chapter 24

Yue-lung wonders how long it will take until he gets rid of the habit of sabotaging his own happiness. He can't remain oblivious to the fact he keeps acting according to the same pattern: sooner or later, he always does something that tests his relationship with Sing. Such behavior can be probably explained with some kind of anxiety or another psychological rubbish, like being unable to believe it will last, along with his self-loathing and feeling he doesn't deserve love. After all, hurting another person is the best method to push them away, although he wishes that Sing stays with him more than anything.

Maybe he's a masochist. Or a sadist. Or, which is the most likely, the both.

He once more treated Sing badly, despite pretending to himself that he meant well. In fact, he didn't like that it was Sing who had control, not him. The tendency to always have things happening as he wants them to happen, hasn't gone anywhere. He just can't stand it that someone may act on their will. So he tried to break even Sing, without any regard for the man's will... just like other people had kept breaking him for years, for a whole fucking decade.

Can one sink even more?

Once again, he swears to himself to never do it again... but has no confidence whatsoever that he can trust his own promises. He fears that, when the next time happens, he won't remember them or he'll decide they don't matter. But he promised to Sing, too. So maybe it's the high time to - instead to repeatedly testing their bond and trying to _break_ it, instead of taking one step forward and three steps back - end such games and learn how far they can _get_ together? What was the point in allowing the past to control him if he could focus on the present and maybe even the future, instead? Even Sing knew that, given that he told him that straight the last year already...

Being with Sing for a year... that's, um, having Sing in his life for so long - and having him so much - doesn't cease to amaze him. Maybe after another year passes, he will be able to accept their friendship... and that Blanca was right when he spoke of 'someone who will love and care'. That time he didn't believe him at all.

Speaking of Blanca, the man came one day to offer his apology. Yue-lung had no idea what it was about, but after the explanation he understood at least why Sing wanted to get rid of the bodyguard so much. As for the apology itself, he only commented that it wasn't like anything bad had happened, and he kept to himself that, had it been not for Blanca's intervention, the situation wouldn't have possibly developed as it did.

Maybe he would've remained oblivious to Sing's feelings until this day. A terrible thought indeed.

Over the next weeks, he does his best to do nothing... that is, to do nothing stupid. He doesn't attempt to tempt Sing, doesn't try to discourage him, doesn't test their friendship. He's almost a passive recipient of love... and basks in it like in the sun. He allows it and allows himself to draw strength from it. He drives away his doubts and bad scenarios and instead concentrates on optimism. It's not easy - it's not easy to not be scared - but he makes an effort nonetheless. All that contributes to his good mood, and he finds the days are painless and pleasant. He slowly begins to understand why it's so important to have 'someone who loves and cares' - to know that someone like that exists, especially present in his daily life, serves as a positive message that even someone as vile as Lee Yue-lung has something about him that evokes warmer feelings. Love, if one accepts it, helps to believe that one is not the most wretched creature in the world... helps to like himself just a bit.

Sing still showers him with tender gestures, and soon Yue-lung completely gets used to them. The brief hugs have turned into longer moments of Sing holding him close in his arms, and all of Yue-lung's exposed skin must have been covered with his kisses by now. These caresses are hopelessly romantic, but it's probably exactly the point: that they don't show desire only affection, that they don't make him feel threatened only add to his sense of security. And it really works; Yue-lung realizes that, over these weeks and then months, he's become fully used Sing's hands and lips touching his body. It even came to this that he sometimes sits down next to him and rests his head on Sing's shoulder, as if demanding the contact himself, and he's always given it.

In June, however, something happens to shake him to the core and remind him that life more often is cruel than not. It takes place one rainy day when he's returning home from a meeting with a potential business partner, important enough to pay him a visit. As the limousine rides through the damp city and Yue-lung stares at the houses, parks and people moving behind the window, his eyes catch the figure he recognizes at once, despite having believed to never see again. Okumura Eiji is sitting on the bench in the park, caring little about to the rain; in fact, he doesn't seem to be paying attention to the world at all. His face is like a mask, petrified in indifference, and his eyes are lifeless. He soon disappears when the car starts to move again, but the image of his hunched silhouette - a dead grief incarnated - has managed to imprint on Yue-lung's mind, as if burned under his eyelids, taking away his strength and filling him with terrible cold.

Yue-lung gets home, but he just can't get rid of the feeling as if all warmth had left him forever. He's frozen, crushed by weight he recognizes as sorrow, regret, guilt - and fear. Realization it is him who created that Eiji pierces him with pain - for the first time in his life, because it's only now that he saw and _comprehended_ it. That time, one year ago, information of Ash's death didn't stir any reaction in him... but over that year - he's aware of it now - he's changed at least as much as to know that he would look exactly the same as Eiji if he lost Sing. And he know it would be the greatest wrong in the world.

* * *

When Soo-ling returns from the gym, he finds Yue-lung in the dim bedroom. Yue-lung is sitting on his bed in a suit and staring blankly ahead. Soo-ling becomes anxious, but then Yue-lung realizes his presence as he turns his head to look at him, and there's only despair in his gaze. Before Soo-ling is overtaken by a sheer terror and asks what happened, he hears a whisper, "Sing... I feel so terrible."

It's been a while since the last time Soo-ling saw him so distressed - certainly not in the last few weeks, filled only with joy and hope - and that sight is heart-wrenching. He hesitates only a moment, then sits down on the bed next to him and hugs him close to assure him everything will be okay. Yue-lung rests his forehead on his shoulder and simply lets himself be cuddled. They sit like that without saying anything, and Soo-ling takes delight in this moment, although he's concerned by the despair he's witnessing. He knows he would give anything, just _anything_ , to make Yue-lung never suffer again.

Finally, the silence is broken by the voice only slightly stronger than a whisper, "I saw Eiji today."

Soo-ling freezes altogether. He's known, of course, that Eiji returned to NY the last year already, but he had no courage to go and see him. Then how Yue-lung...?

"I saw him outside the window car, just for a short moment," Yue-lung goes on as if reading his mind. "It was... Sing, do you hate me?"

Soo-ling blinks in astonishment. "I think you've skipped some lines here," he says, trying to follow the train of thought.

"Do you hate me for what I did that time?" Yue-lung repeats the question with his face still buried in his shoulder.

"I don't hate you," Soo-ling replies almost automatically. "I told you this many times."

"Well, I sure hate myself," Yue-lung says in an unnaturally calm voice. "Without any reason I ruined people who didn't wrong me. I used your guys, contributed to Ash's death, brought Eiji to despair..."

"Stop it..." Soo-ling tries to interrupt that flow of words, but Yue-lung won't stop.

"I didn't think of it that time," he continues as if he hasn't even heard him. "I thought I had every right to do it, that it would be fair, but in fact I only wanted to destroy everything. It's only now, after I saw Eiji, that I understand what monster I was... I am. You said you would never forgive me for what I did... You're perfectly right about it."

"Stop it...!" Soo-ling demands and still doesn't get a response.

"You remember when you became mad at me? When I said that it's Eiji to be blamed for Ash's death, not you? When I accused you of being a saint, a martyr? Did you already... Sing, were you protecting even... _me?_ Because the cause behind that all wasn't that letter from Eiji you took to Ash. And Lao was only a hand dealing a blow. It was my desire to make them suffer that brought all that... Did you know that? Already then?"

"Will you shut up already?!" It takes Soo-ling's all strength to not shake him.

Yue-lung finally gets silent, and Soo-ling tries to calm down. He's embittered... and mad at himself. For so long, he's been wanting that Yue-lung realizes his mistakes, but now that it apparently happened, it makes him feel bad because it's so painful. Now he only wants his beloved person to be happy and never suffer again, no matter how noble that suffering might be. The thought Yue-lung spent hours with that matter tormenting him is unbearable.

"What's the point in going back to that?" he asks irritably, and then he can't stop talking, putting all conviction into his words. "We can't do a thing about what's already happened, it's no use talking about it. It's all in the past now." He gulps upon remembering the things that now only embarrass him. "Maybe I did say I would never forgive you, but... But it's what is now that matters, and now I know you're the most important man to me, regardless of anything. So don't think of that... just like I don't think. What happened happened, we can only accept it. We're only humans, so don't think so bad of yourself."

"After all that happened, you still consider me... a human?" he hears a voice that probably was supposed to be ironic, but broke in the middle... Good, for that earlier dispassionate tone was creepy, filling with terror and hurting even more.

"What else should I consider you?" Soo-ling answers at once.

Yue-lung hunches in his arms and says nothing, Soo-ling embraces him even tighter, as if he's never wanting to release him in order to keep him safe.

"Sing... Why me?" Yue-lung asks in a tiny voice; he seems to be holding back tears.

All of the sudden, Soo-ling feels like smiling. "No idea. Feelings can't be rationalized."

He has no idea why Lee Yue-lung is what he's become to him. If he were pressed for answer, he would say that it is exactly because he discovered a human in that otherwise tremendous creature. But he doesn't feel like talking about it now, so he remains silent and keeps holding his greatest treasure in his arms, happy he can do it.

They stay this way for a longer while, until the room turns completely dark. Soo-ling finally calms down; his heart beats slowly again, and his breathing is even... and despite having spent the last half an hour hugging the man he desires with all his might and can't stop thinking of even for a second. And now that he realized it, his body is on fire again and he shivers. He knows he should pull them apart... but he can't, especially when he notices that Yue-lung's fingers are clutching his T-shirt. How could he break this amazing moment of union? It seems completely impossible.

However, he remembers that such closeness can have bad results. Never before have the two of them... "Are you still with me?" he asks in a low voice, praying that the answer comes.

Fortunately, Yue-lung confirms his presence with a murmur, and Soo-ling tries to gather his thought and mark that they've just cleared yet another stage of the plan... but the memory of the goal of that plan inflames him even more. He bites his lips to suppress a moan.

"Sing..." Yue-lung whispers. "Could you say it once more?"

And for some reason Soo-ling knows at once what he's asked for. His heart fills with affection again. "I love you," he says in Yue-lung's hair, forgetting everything else.

"A saint, like I said," Yue-lung mutters, and Soo-ling is happy he can no longer hear any despair in his voice.

"Why?" he asks, more to keep up this lighter mood.

"You give so much and... do you even expect anything in return...?"

'I think it's normal in love, no?' Soo-ling thinks, but he only says, "I'll be fine with anything."

Yue-lung snorts in disapproval, but his fingers clutch at Soo-ling's clothes even tighter. The next moment, he lifts his head from his shoulder, but instead of moving away, like Soo-ling expected, he cranes up and touches his lips with his own.

Soo-ling is under the impression his heart stopped for a second and then exploded in his chest, filling it with sweet pain. Then he starts to realize what has just happened. He clenches his hands on Yue-lung's shoulders in a final attempt to contain himself, he knows he should stop it when he's still able to think because in a minute, in a second he will lose control and bring about a tragedy... but he can't push him away, he can't do a thing because Y u e - l u n g i s k i s s i n g h i m and Soo-ling wouldn't relinquish this moment even if his life depended on it, the current and all following ones.

He raises his hands to cup his face. His fingers are trembling, he's trembling all over, and his skin seems to be burning. He's hot and lacks air, feels dizzy and close to fainting, but he doesn't stop this kiss that is nothing more than their lips touching. He slips his fingers in Yue-lung's hair and pulls him closer. Yue-lung is shivering next to him, and Soo-ling can hear his quickened breathing. The thought of stopping it still rings in his head... but then Yue-lung opens his mouth, and there is no return.

Soo-ling gives a moan of frustration, then takes the invitation and sinks into the kiss. He has no idea what he's doing and if he's doing it right, but now he needs no ideas; it's his instinct to guide him. The mouth that meets him is hot and wet, and alive, beyond doubt. Upper lip, lower lip, tongue, inside... he gets to know and tastes them, and doesn't want to tear up from them, wants to stay here forever and remain unified. He feels so good he could as well die now and would regret nothing, but dying is the last thing he has on his mind. Why should he turn down such a delight? And that thought brings another: he wants more... even more... and he knows he can get it because Yue-lung...

He pulls their lips apart - he will never understand how he managed to do so - and gasps for air. The room is dark, so he can't see a thing, but Yue-lung seems to get it. "I'm here, Sing," he whispers. "I'm with you..."

And Soo-ling doesn't need anything else in order to hold him close and kiss him like mad, hell-bent on never stopping again because he's in paradise. He's kissing and caressing, saying the words of love over and over again... until the body in his arms suddenly loses all tension, turning into a limp mass.


	25. Chapter 25

Yue-lung isn't bothered by his collapse in the slightest, but Sing, by the look of it, is totally devastated... probably because it happened in that particular situation. Afterwards, Yue-lung tries to cheer him up, relating to the event humorously, but it doesn't work. Sing just doesn't want to touch him again.

The next day they are sitting in his room, the gang leader seems as if his entire world fell apart. "It's hopeless," he says, hunched in the armchair.

"So you're ging to give up?"

"What else can I do?" Sing lifts his face. Much to Yue-lung's terror, there are tears in his eyes.

"Sing, I don't want you to cry because of me," Yue-lung has never been so certain of anything before. "It wasn't your fault. I mean... We must assume you're a great kisser."

Sing, however, presses his lips tight and averts his eyes without saying anything, so the compliment didn't work.

"It wasn't your fault," Yue-lung repeats once more. "It's because..." He pauses, searching for a right word. "Because of overstimulation."

"Spare yourself that scientific language. You think you can distract me from the problem?"

"I'm not distracting you. People happen to faint during sex, Sing."

"But we didn't even get there, we only..." Sing gulps, "kissed..."

"Then we must do it again," Yue-lung says in a seemingly calm tone.

But Sing only buries his face in his knees. He resembles a child that found himself in a situation too difficult for him; he's never looked like that, even two years ago when they met for the first time, despite being five inches shorter and much tinier than now. Yue-lung doesn't want to see it. In his eyes, Sing Soo-ling is courage, boldness and optimism incarnated, so the sight of him now is... unpleasant.

Yet, he has no idea what to do... what else could he say to give him strength. He's under the impression that the more he will push, the more Sing will move back. In fact, he's not at all certain that, if they did it again, it wouldn't end the very same way. On the other hand, it seems to him that the more they try, the better are chances that they finally succeed - but how can he suggest it after Sing didn't approve the idea already?

The reason Yue-lung approaches the problem differently is that has a very good memory of what happened the last evening. He remembers the soft darkness and Sing's strong arms around him. He remembers how he needed that contact, as much as words and concern. He remembers that moment he felt completely, _perfectly_ safe - and open to everything. In the first place, he felt ready to go out of his self and meet Sing, like never before had he felt with anyone else. He liked their kissing and enjoyed it, only... Yeah. Sing's passion hit him so violently it was just too much. Like he said, he experienced overstimulation and that's why he fainted. However, he clearly remembers that, before that happened, he felt good, not the opposite, although Sing probably assumed the latter and won't be persuaded otherwise, while Yue-lung is too timid to approach him, not in the middle of the day anyway.

"You did know from the beginning I was fucked in the head," he says with self-irony.

Sing looks up at him and at least he no longer appears to cry. Good.

They succeed in getting back to their daily tenderness, but Sing clearly doesn't want to go any further and, in general, seems terribly sad; Yue-lung, on his part, is too scared to initiate anything. That moment in darkness was special, and besides... If Sing, which is possible, refuses flatly or pushes him away, something between them will be lost forever.

As the days pass, however, Yue-lung becomes more and more certain that he must do something before Sing decides to become a monk and renounce all carnal pleasure.

* * *

When July starts, Yue-lung is already sick of being treated like a glass figurine that would fall to pieces when handled wrong. He understands Sing's attitude, but he's also absolutely certain they won't get anywhere if they don't move forward. He knows fully he wants to try, but if he leaves it to Sing, then they will spent the rest of their lives just holding hands. And even though holding hands is much more he had before, he doesn't plan to stop here and give up the possibility of finding out what may follow. The last months have made him believe that even better things may follow.

That is why one evening, as the warm and fragrant dusk is falling outside and Sing has just returned from the shower, Yue-lung stands in the doorway between their rooms and asks straight, "Sing, can you trust me?"

Sing's expression clearly says he hasn't forgotten the affair with the aphrodisiac yet... but he must also think that saying 'no' won't proper be, considering their bond, so in the end he nods. Yue-lung, despite his nervousness, finds it somewhat sweet. He enters the room and sits down next to him on the edge of the bed. Sing glances at him but at least doesn't move away... which, on the other hand, arises a question if he already stopped desiring Yue-lung altogether.

So Yue-lung asks, "Do you want me still?" because, if the answer is confirming, he has nothing to do here.

Then, however, Sing looks at him with such passion in his eyes that all doubt vanishes. Yue-lung takes a deep breath, inhaling Sing's scent of water and shampoo, and says, "Sing, we must try again, otherwise these last months will be in vain. I really want to try. I really feel ready. You said you wanted me to be your first. I... It was one of the kindest thing I've ever been told in my life... and it made me happy and... I'm grateful."

He pauses, realizing there's much more he wished he could say but will never be able to, so he must convey the most important thing. When he speaks again, his voice is softer, although his heart is beating very fast. "And when I thought about it and internalized it, I slowly understood that, if it's so... Sing, I'd like you to be my last."

He has no courage to raise his eyes. He clenches his hands on his clothes and gulps. Sing is sitting beside him without saying a thing, but the silence between them isn't dead, so he decides to keep talking. "I want you to be my last, so please, let's do it. I know you're scared... Well, I'm not, but I don't want to expose you to any new... hmm, unpleasant things, so we're... going to do it my way. You said you trusted me, and I promise to do nothing against your will. You can raise an objection at any moment, and we'll stop right away." He finally looks at him. "Are you up for this?"

Sing looks back. Yue-lung can see hesitation and thousand of questions in his eyes, but also immense desire and affection... and he is once more hit by the thought, 'Only you.' Sing is the first man that has ever managed to awake such a need in him.

"Let's do it your way," he hears in the end, and the answer fills him with relief. "Which means what, exactly?"

"Lie down and face the wall," he says and, when Sing follows the instruction, takes out a needle. "We'll succeed, I just... can't have you touch me," he explains, finding the right point on his nape and pricking it right away. Then he rolls Sing on his back. "You can't move from your neck down, but you feel everything, right? You can breathe, talk and... your body is working normally."

Sing's eyes are like saucers now. He gulps. His expression is anxious and bordering a sheer terror, but before he gets to protest, Yue-lung leans over him and says softly, "Please, let me attend to you tonight. Trust me, neither of us will regret it."

"Fine," Sing replies, despite his voice being pretty uncertain.

Yue-lung smiles and removes the towel from his hips. All this made Sing's arousal vanish, but Yue-lung is sure it will soon be back. He gets up and begins to undress, without taking his eyes off the figure lying on the bed. He likes what he's seeing: a slender body with skin a bit darker than his own and long limbs with distinct, developed muscles. Beyond doubt, it's a body of a man, now that child Yue-lung met two years ago.

"Turn on the light," Sing's voice breaks into his observation. "I want to see you."

Yue-lung switches on the lamp in the corner of the room, then takes off the last of his clothes and unfastens his hair. Sing gives a soft moan, averts his eyes for a moment, only to look at him right away. Yue-lung sits down on the bed again and leans over, letting his hair brush against Sing's sculpted stomach and provoking the twitching of his muscles.

He smiles when Sing suppresses another moan. "You don't have to be quiet. I bet everyone thinks we've been sleeping together for a long time," he whispers.

Sing looks at him with reproach that soon disappears when Yue-lung touches his cheek, only to move his hand down on his neck and chest. He can feel fast heart-beating under his palm that corresponds to the quick breathing. He looks over his shoulder to see that Sing's lower parts started to gain life, and then returns to his flushed face. The realization how relaxed he's feeling strikes him... and then he thinks it probably has something to do with having the absolute control. This conclusion isn't pleasant, and maybe that's why he asks, "What would you like me to do?" although he didn't intend it, having planned everything ahead.

"Kiss me...!" Sing calls with a mixture of embarrassment, impatience and irritation.

Yue-lung blinks in astonishment - he didn't see it coming... but then he leans down to touch Sing's lips with his own, closing his eyes. A gentle buss quickly turns into a passionate kiss when Sing hungrily sinks in his mouth. Yue-lung cups his face, slipping his fingers into his hair, still damp after the shower, and doesn't stop; he fully concentrates on what he's doing, as if this contact is his anchor in reality. Finally, they pull their mouths apart to take some air, only to be connected in yet another kiss soon.

"Do you like it?" Sing asks during the next interval.

"I told you, you're a great kisser," Yue-lung answers. "Not that I really have any comparison," he adds after a moment. Then a sudden thought makes him shudder and pull away. "You really want me? After so many hands touched me before...? I'm not pure."

"Let me remind you _I_ am not touching you," Sing points out ironically. "Besides... I won't stand anybody in my bed but you, so let's not talk about other men," he says in a firm manner, but then his voice becomes softer. "In a way... it's your first time, too... right?"

And suddenly Yue-lung is unable to say a thing because his throat clenched, so he only nods. He's positive he's never felt so grateful before, and it helps drive away that coldness. However, as he's happened to get sentimental in Sing's presence more than enough so far, now he pulls himself together and remembers why they are here... but he can't tear his eyes off Sing and touches his cheek once again. Sing turns his head to kiss the inside of his hand, and Yue-lung has an impression of electric spark running through his body and has to contain a cry, one of surprise and pleasure. He must be careful that it doesn't end like the last time.

Like before, he moves his hands onto Sing's chest, massaging his skin with his fingers, first gently, then in a more firm manner, giving special attention to his nipples. Sing's breathing, that had managed to calm down a bit after kissing, now quickens again, and when Yue-lung lowers his head and brings his tongue into action, Sing can't hold back his moan and bends his head back. After a longer moment of such stimulation, Yue-lung moves the tip of his tongue over the hot skin of Sing's stomach, leaving light yet deliberated kisses along the way.

"You're... you're so good," Sing pants when Yue-lung gives him a break.

"I did my homework. I read a bit about male erogenous zones."

Sing stares at him in disbelief, and then his lips stretch in a smile. Not for long anyway, as the next moment Yue-lung reaches and grabs his cock, which makes Sing press his eyelids tight and toss his head back again. He bites his lips but, as Yue-lung begins to move his hand, he can no longer contain a hoarse groan that seems to be coming deep from his throat. Yue-lung smiles, never stopping to stroke the hard, hot organ up and down. It doesn't take long, and Sing - unable to control his orgasm - comes in his hand quite soon.

"It was the most... incredible thing in my life," he says when he's able to speak again and his breathing calmed down. "Thanks," he adds in a low voice.

Yue-lung is glad to hear that; he feared Sing would say, 'the most embarrassing'. "Wait for the rest," he murmurs and sits up; he spent the last minutes lying next to him.

Sing opens his eyes to look at him. "There's more coming?" he asks hesitantly. "Besides... What about you?"

"We have all night," Yue-lung replies with a smile, driving away the thought, 'We have all life'.

He makes Sing aroused again. He enjoys it more than anything, and not because he has control and can finally bring Sing to and over the edge. He enjoys this intimacy, how they are together with no barriers whatsoever. Above all, he likes it that he can give Sing pleasure; now, witnessing his bliss, he has a palpable feeling that he can repay him for everything he's been given in the last year. Showing his gratitude with actions fits him better than with words, and that's why, from the moment he thought of doing it, he's been resolved to give his all. _All._

When Sing gets hard again, Yue-lung climbs atop him in order to take him in. After the previous time, Sing's cock is slick, which makes everything a bit easier. Sing stares at him, alarmed and delighted at the same time, gasping for air. "Stop...!"

"Really? Would you like me to stop?"

The only reply is a groan that never ceases as Yue-lung, bit by bit, shifts down and Sing gets inside him deeper and deeper. He looks at Sing's flushed face, parted lips, and eyes filled with ecstasy, and he knows it's him who did it. He's overcome with rapture, caused by that unique feeling of unity. And then he realizes that his own body started to vibrate with a sensation that he hasn't known before and that demands his attention. Gasping for air, he looks down to see the best proof of his desire.

Sing can see it, too. "Please, let me touch you," he asks, giving him a serious look of admiration and immense love... and Yue-lung is aware he longs for it with every fiber of his being.

He performs some stunt that is utterly impossible for a normal man to make Sing able to move again. Sing sits up to embrace and kiss him, and to _touch_ him. Yue-lung bites his lips, putting both arms around Sing's neck, and presses his face to his shoulder. He's certain he's going to faint, but he doesn't want it, not when Sing is touching him like that and it's... _good_. When the bliss comes, the strong arms around him provide the safest shelter, and the words of love that never stop give sweetness to these perfectly needless tears of joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When writing this chapter, I had to take my neuroanatomy book from the shelf because I felt a bit confused about Yue's skills with a needle. After research, I made sure that that what he does in anime is completely impossible from medical point of view xD I even found a professional comment on the matter in net; check it here: https://www.acupuncture.org.uk/public-content/about-acupuncture-treatment/5110-can-acupuncture-cause-temporary-paralysis.html
> 
> Well, there's quite a lot of magic in BF. Anyway, I decided to follow the canon, but you must be aware that you won't achieve the same result when trying this at home xD
> 
> There's only 5 chapters left. I have three days off work straight now, so it's quite possible that I will finish the story on Monday. However, it's going to take a few more days to polish the final chapters and make the translations. In any case, it should be done the next Friday, at the very latest :)


	26. Chapter 26

Never before has Soo-ling been so happy as this morning when he wakes up between the crumpled sheets to see Yue-lung sleeping beside him and the events of the last night come back to him in a vivid memory. He knows he will remember that night until his death. It was a night of laughter and tears, night of giving and receiving, night of joy and pleasure, night of unity and fulfillment. What Yue-lung and he did together was shaking, incredible and, beyond doubt, good. A thought occurs to him: is there still anything for him to achieve in his life?

Actually, it's almost noon; they went to sleep no sooner than at dawn. It was only then that they sated with each other, using their remaining strength. Considering his constitution, Yue-lung was probably much more exhausted; no wonder he's still asleep. Soo-ling has no intention of waking him. He put one arm under his head and only observes his beloved, filled with immense affection and pride. And gratitude for a miracle.

Although everything started in a very kinky way, almost scaring him to death - he couldn't move! - that one-actor theater quickly turned into a partnership. To tell the truth, now Soo-ling is able to understand why Yue-lung enjoyed attending to him so much: giving pleasure is even better than being given it. When he realized he could cause it himself, it was a satisfaction beyond compare. That he succeeded to fulfill his promise, too, is of a little importance; what matters is that they managed to experience that delight together.

It's quite an irony that in this particular case Yue-lung was right, choosing the courage, while Soo-ling was running away in fear. If Yue-lung hadn't had his way, it would've taken much longer for them to reach this stage. Yet, Soo-ling is capable of admitting his mistake and only being grateful. Yue-lung probably felt ready indeed; after all, he must know himself better than Soo-ling could ever know him. But, as he's lying down and staring at his sleeping face now - he never has enough of that sight - he realizes that he does know more than just a little about him... and certainly more than anybody else. And suddenly it becomes clear to him that Yue-lung can use his strongest points not only to hurt and take, but also to rebuild and give, turning his intelligence into creativity, his perspicacity into sensitivity, his tenacity into courage, and his charm into genuine beauty.

Soo-ling doesn't care about what they say: that love makes people blind. He wants to see the best in Yue-lung... maybe also because he senses that Yue-lung sees little good in himself. Soo-ling hopes he will be able to always support him and provide a counterbalance to all those negative thoughts and emotions he suspects inside him. Well, he has plenty arguments to object them, many examples and proofs of good he's witnessed... like the last night that was a show of complete unselfishness, a marathon of giving without thinking of one's own benefit. The last night, Lee Yue-lung was here for him, and only for him.

Soo-ling can't take his eyes off the sleeping man and asks himself if he could love him even more. Actually, he can't quite grasp it how come his heart hasn't exploded of the excess of affection yet. Once again he comes to the conclusion he's the happiest man in the world, and can't hide his smile. He wishes this moment never passed, but he knows he's being silly; there's still many good moments ahead. If anybody calls him a hopeless romantic... well, then be it. But if anybody tries to ever laugh at the importance of love in his presence, then he will be throwing punches.

Finally, Yue-lung lifts his eyelids to give him a sleepy look. Soo-ling realizes this moment of intimacy - they are only lying and looking at each other - is something entirely different from anything they did last night. Seeing how the sun lights an amethyst flame - and understanding - in those eyes, he suddenly becomes anxious. What if Yue-lung sees the situation unfavorably and starts to treat him differently now? What if the night events, from the perspective of today, will appear revolting and regrettable? What if he decides he didn't wanted it, after all?

'Don't say you want to end it all,' Soo-ling begs in his thought, knowing he's just stupid.

"Was it really so bad that you're wearing such an expression?" Yue-lung asks with sarcasm that is rare for him in the morning. "Last night I had quite another impression. Or maybe you consider me a monster now, after I deflowered and debauched you... hmm?"

Soo-ling blinks in astonishment. Apparently, his anxiety was reflected in his face and Yue-lung couldn't miss such an occasion to prey on it. That snake. "If it's with you, I'd happily let myself be deflowered a hundred times more," he replies boldly, aware of the blush on his cheeks; well, he's just being sincere.

"Sing, it's something you can do only once..." Yue-lung says, rolling his eyes.

"Are you sure?"

Now Yue-lung seems disconcerted and falls silent for a moment, averting his eyes. "It's not right that we pretend... That we forget that I-"

"I hoped to make you forget," Soo-ling interrupts him. "But it seems I must do it better. A lot of work before me. That is, of course, if you want it."

Yue-lung says nothing, but the look in his eyes when he stares at him again is so honest, so expressive that it moves Soo-ling. "It was great," he says briskly as he doesn't want the mood to turn too serious. "Thanks. I'm glad we did it. It was great," he repeats.

Yue-lung is still silent, but he reaches to him, and Soo-ling takes his hand immediately, letting their fingers entwine. His heart is beating fast and hard, and his chest is filled with such warmth he smiles again. He's never felt so good in his life. "Now I see that it's possible to faint during it," he speaks again, trying to sound casual. "I was pretty close to it last night."

"It's more common in women, though," Yue-lung mutters in reply and then looks at him again. "Sing... You really don't mind having sex with a man?"

'Isn't it a bit too late for such questions...?' Sing asks in his thought, but aloud he says, "It wasn't 'a man', it was you."

"You mean... You don't consider me a man?" Yue-lung asks with a frown.

"That's not what I meant..."

"Sing, the lights were on. You _had_ to notice that, despite this hair and all, I'm not a woman," Yue-lung goes on in a troubled voice. "If you didn't, then let me stress now that you won't become a father, not with me anyway. I'm sorry if it disappoints you, but there's no helping the nature."

"I'm sixteen, not six," Soo-ling says between his teeth. "But even six-year-old kids can tell the difference between boys and girls, so don't fancy-"

Without letting go of his hand, Yue-lung rolls on his back and snorts. He can't hold a giggle ,and soon he's laughing out loud. Soo-ling forgets everything else, listening to that laugher that expresses joy, amusement and relief. He's never heard Yue-lung laughing like that and discovers he's happier he was just a moment ago because that laughter is the best proof he hasn't done anything wrong, just the opposite. He starts to chuckle himself, and soon they both are laughing out loud as if there was nothing to trouble them. Well, there isn't. They are just two young guys with a whole life ahead.

Yue-lung manages to finally calm down. He wipes the tears in the corner of his eyes and looks at him again. He just won't stop smiling, and he seems close to burts out laughing again any moment. Soo-ling understands it; he feels exactly the same.

"I don't know if I have anything against 'sex with a man'," he resumes the topic, "but I sure don't have anything against _you_ ," he says quietly but resolutely. "Even if we have no kids," he adds pointedly. This thought, however, makes him think of another thing, strange as that association is. "Hey, by the way... I didn't dama- I didn't hurt you, did I? It was my first time, maybe I should be... um, more gentle..."

"I have some bruises, but it's not a big deal, they'll heal in no time. If you're asking if you _damaged_ me inside, then certainly not permanently," Yue-lung answers, and Soo-ling is horrified... which must be visible on his face, for Yue-lung adds quickly, "No, you didn't hurt me! Not at all, I just said it wrong!"

"You sure?" Soo-ling asks distrustfully.

"I'm sure. First, I'm not a girl, I can handle a bit of rough treatment, and the second... Well, I'm more flexible than your average person and have a high tolerance for pain."

"It was painful?! I should've guessed it. I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Sing, are you even listening to me?" Yue-lung asks, squeezing his hand. "I'm saying I'm all right, so would you please stop treating me like some piece of art?"

Soo-ling decides to believe him, and he swears to himself to be more tender the next time... and, even better, get some knowledge about the male sex before that. He would never forgive himself for hurting him. He smiles because comparing Yue-lung to a piece of art is well-based.

"Hey, I don't like that look of yours," Yue-lung says, knitting his brows.

"I was thinking how beautiful you are."

Yue-lung frowns even more. "My hair is a mess, I should brush my teeth, and it's been a whole day since my previous shower," he announces with irony. "I'm far from be-"

Soo-ling interrupts him with a kiss. "You're beautiful and desirable," he says softly, almost in a whisper, leaning over his face so close that their noses touch. "You are sexy like hell, Lee Yue-lung, and you know it well."

Yue-lung stares at him, utterly stupefied. "It's the first time you called me by my name," he whispers in the end, without looking away, delight and astonishment mixing in his eyes.

"I know," Soo-ling replies simply. "You don't like it?" he asks boldly.

Yue-lung is still gazing at him with his eyes wide open, and Soo-ling realizes he awaits the answer with his heart racing because he wishes he can call him that. How is it that one so quickly takes for granted what he already got, and wants more right away...

"Leave it for special occasions," Yue-lung says in the end. "I'm pretty fine with that cheeky tone of yours on a daily basis. But maybe you want that I call you by your name...?"

"Leave it for special occasions," Soo-ling replies with a sneer but can't say any more as Yue-lung grabs him by his neck and pulls his head down.

"My Soo-ling," he whispers to his ear with a smile, and Soo-ling has the impression of electric current running through his body and has to stop a moan.

He can't, however, refrain himself from another kiss, but Yue-lung doesn't seem to object it and eagerly offers himself. His lips are soft and warm and their touch sends sparks down Soo-ling's spine as he sinks in the moist mouth, wondering how he could have lived without such bliss until now. Without breaking the kiss, he embraces the slim body below him, and Yue-lung slips his fingers into his hair as if he doesn't want to ever let go of him.

Finally, they break apart. Soo-ling presses his nose to Yue-lung's temple, while Yue-lung moves his hands onto his shoulders, and they lie like this, calming their breaths.

"My Soo-ling," Yue-lung repeats, and there's an amazing happiness in his voice.

"May I be yours?" Soo-ling asks in a whisper. "Am I okay?"

"I want only you," he hears the unwavering answer. "I told you: you are my last."

"It sounded like a proposal," Soo-ling mutters with his eyes closed.

"You expect me to propose to you the next day after we had sex for the first time? There's some limit to being presumptuous, Sing Soo-ling," Yue-lung says with a faked indignation. "Besides, aren't you a little too young for marriage? You should be eighteen..."

Soo-ling smiles, then grabs his hand and kisses all fingers one by one. "Since when is a mafia boss concerned with law?"

Yue-lung remains silent, so they lie like that for a longer while, embraced in a bit awkward position. Soo-ling is once more amazed by the fact how much he's got... No, how much he's still being given, more and more as the time pass, despite never having a need to even get it before. And he's surprised that relationship with another person - one could think: the most simple and natural thing under the sun - could bring so many sensations, emotions and essence into his life. Every moment he spends with Yue-lung seems to enrich him and help him grow. Maybe that's what happens when there's two people in a relation...?

"Thanks for letting me be with you," he mutters, aware he's being awfully sentimental.

"Thank you for being with me," Yue-lung replies in a calm voice ringing with a gentle smile. Then, however, he snorts and adds in that tone of complaint of his, "We're already talking like we were married ten years."

"That's horrible, I agree," Soo-ling says, holding his laugh. "We must stop, or we're going to have troubles later. But I'm sure we'll have enough imagination to... Ah!" That cry is caused by his hair being suddenly pulled by Yue-lung, who then reaches for his lips fiercely. Soo-ling comes to the conclusion there's no point thinking of what might be in the next ten years; soon, he stops thinking of everything else as well.

"I'll be happy if you have enough imagination just for one day in advance," Yue-lung whispers with ardor before kissing him again. "You did pretty well the last night," he says during another interval. "Knowing your lack of experience, it was better than... ah... good."

"I may not be a genius, but I'm a quick learner," Soo-ling replies in a similar manner and gently bites Yue-lung's lower lip. "So, as long as we do it together, we're fine. But don't worry, I'm going to do some research, too," he promises. "You won't get bored."

After yet another kiss, he moves his lips onto Yue-lung's neck, then his chest, and then his stomach, determined to leave new marks on the white skin... and do it every day before the old ones vanished. He hopes to leave such marks in Yue-lung's soul, too.

"You're mine," he says bravely, like he wished to do it since ever.

"So I am."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because of the quarantine, I've been suffering from insomnia for a several days now :( I still have the final chapter to write down, and I'll probably do it this week. I certainly want to post a final instalment (and translation) in weekend, at the very latest.


	27. Chapter 27

After that, the life gets only better. Blanca is dismissed - or that's how Soo-ling wants to see it - with reference, and the two of them can be alone. They spend the rest of summer in a bliss of being together, with all other matters receding into background; they make love many times a day, in different places and positions. According to his promise, Soo-ling broadens his knowledge of art of love, and Yue-lung is more than happy to provide him with the occasions to practice; he never refuses his suggestions and sometimes giggles when Soo-ling says, 'You know, I read that...'

Sex with Yue-lung is an extremely rewarding thing, but Soo-ling knows it's not about just having sex. Even if he's gone crazy over Yue-lung's body and nothing pleases him more than holding him and kissing every part of his skin, it is Yue-lung's presence and daily coexistence that make him fulfilled. Sex satisfies his carnal desire, but love gives sense to his whole life. He feels so good he often wants to laugh and cry, and shout about his happiness to everybody around.

This state of insane infatuation is not going away; on the contrary, it seems to only intensify. Soo-ling has no idea if his feelings are reciprocated; he lacks courage to ask how Yue-lung feels about him. He vaguely suspects that his partner - how wonderful to say it - is someone who could never utter the words, 'I love you'. Yet, he believes with all his might that Yue-lung is _capable of loving;_ all that Soo-ling receives from him can't mean anything else. Tenderness and concern, devotion and acceptance, honesty and trust - if they are not sign of love, then of what?

And it seems that the what's between them affects Yue-lung in a good manner. Even though the night romps exhaust him physically - Soo-ling sometimes timidly suggests a joint training in a gym, which Yue-lung response with a wince and bald refusal to - and he often complains about being sleepy, his movements are energetic like never before. He smiles a lot and sometimes even laugh merrily. He jokes, is ironic and enjoys verbal contests. He's in a good mood and seems to appreciate every day. He appears more courageous and self-confident. He appears to no longer doubt his happiness. He appears to not remember all those less pleasant things that used to dominate his way of thinking and governed his behavior earlier.

Soo-ling is glad that it's him who managed to make it happen, and still does. To see your beloved person feeling good because of you is probably the most important, the most wonderful thing about the relationship of two people. The greatest prize.

"I'm happy to be alive," Yue-lung says, very frankly for himself, as he's lying with his eyes closed and his breathing has already calmed down after orgasm. "I really am."

That confession moves Soo-ling so much that he can't say a thing for a longer while, so he only hugs him closer, pressing his cheek to his temple. Though he tries not to recollect it, another words Yue-lung once said come back to him, 'If not for hatred, I would've given up my life years ago.' He remembers all those situations when Yue-lung searched his death, as well as that suicidal attempt from the last year. What he heard now is the best proof that one should never lose hope.

"Me too," he whispers with gratitude. "Me too."

* * *

Yue-lung realizes that, for the first time in his life, he is truly happy... and that, if he wants this happiness to continue, he must keep Sing with him forever, make him part of his life. No matter how he wishes to believe they will be together like they are now - they hardly ever leave their rooms, have sex around the clock and sleep in strange hours, with Yue-lung having Sing _only to himself_ and without need to share him with anyone - he is a realist and knows that sooner or later they will have to go back to normal life. Besides... Sing once said, 'Our conflict created bad situation'. Now there's a risk that their _affair_ will create a bad situation. Even if Yue-lung managed to push into subconsciousness the fact they both have their respective duties for as long as two months, that matter begins to weigh upon him more and more as the end of the summer grows near.

There's no need to mention that it would be a total waste of Sing's talents if he were reduced to being just a toy boy... although Sing's talents are certainly broad and he only seem to discover new ones. Yue-lung asks about it one day.

"I have absolutely no gift for music," he gets the answer. "I couldn't sing the simplest song, even less play any instrument. And I can't cook."

"Me neither," Yue-lung informs happily. "We're a good match."

"How come is that a good match? A marriage of hungry people?"

Yue-lung says nothing. The jokes about marriage still confuse him pretty much.

In any case, one day he has a serious conversation with Sing about the latter's future... only to find out with terror that Sing has no plans whatsoever and isn't ever bothered by it, which is even worse. Yue-lung decides they must start with a thorough education. It appears that Sing never finished the junior high, which isn't that strange, remembering that around that time he became the leader of the Chinese gang and then got involved in that whole Banana Fish affair, on top of it.

As the Lee family has an in everywhere, even the Ministry of Education, Yue-lung manages to get him the junior high certificate only based on a written exam. Sing has no troubles passing it - he's very smart, and his erudition clearly exceeds that of his peers - although he doesn't want to read any fiction and complains about learning chemistry and biology. Well, it's not like Yue-lung plans a career of a doctor for him... and Sing's knowledge of human anatomy is enough already to please them both.

The next stage is a high school. Physical attending to one is out of question, so Yue-lung forces Sing into home tutoring and later checks what he's learned. It's not that rare that he exclaims, 'How can you not grasp it?' or, 'Are you really that dumb?' or, 'It's so easy that even a grade-school kid would understand it!' Sing takes all this without any comment and only presses his lips in a thin line, clearly hell-bent on giving his best in order to deserve Yue-lung's praise.

And only sometimes in bed, where they usually end in after Yue-lung's questioning, he says pointedly, "I'm glad that at least here you have no reason to criticize me."

* * *

Their existence together continues without any disturbance. Nights are still filled with passion and the most fancy sex. During the day, Yue-lung tends to the business matters, and Sing studies hard to become his right hand one day, although he doesn't neglect the gym and shooting practice either. As for his gang, he entrusted it to his number two, Yang, some time ago. In fall, he and Yue-lung celebrate their respective birthdays again: Sing turns seventeen, and Yue-lung is nineteen now. Sing is again a few inches taller than the last year, and his shoulders are much wider now; despite that, he doesn't seem to stop growing anytime soon. Also, his facial features have become sharper, and it's quite incredible; when he was fourteen, he looked like a ten-year-old kid, and now, just three years later, he looks like an adult man. For his part, Yue-lung hasn't changed at all, but he's perfectly aware of the change that has happened _inside_ him over the last year. When he looks in the mirror, the look in his eyes is entirely different that before; it's the look of a man self-confident, happy and resolved to defend that happiness if needed.

The Lee Syndicate prospers, having regained its previous standing. Yue-lung feels more and more confident as a leader, and he finds it a bit easier to make his decisions. It soon becomes a habit of his to consult them with Sing, who, for all his impetuosity, is very skilled at analyzing the situations and finding the best solution. Yue-lung has no doubt that once Sing assumes an official post in the organization, it will benefit them all. Sometimes, he takes him to the meetings with the business associates, but most of the time he spares him that torture. Sing is such a decent man that spending time with those corrupt people is terribly displeasing to him.

One day, however, he learns that leaving Sing home wasn't a good idea, after all. A president of a certain constructing company that has been making aggressive advances all over Manhattan recently, shows his utter stupidity and tries to get more than his fair share. He invites Yue-lung to his office and after a good dinner, quite mediocre wine and empty talks, he finally gets to the point. Yue-lung's people are shot dead on spot, and the guns are pointed at him. In the frst place, Yue-lung is amazed by the fact that someone really wants to mess with the Chinese mafia.

"Now, Mr Lee, I'd like to talk about passing the ownership of that area to me," that idiot says with a smirk, showing the certain parts of Chinatown on a map. "It's a good location, and you must agree with me that it deserves some proper apartment complexes." And then he starts to elaborate on his visions.

Yue-lung stares at that man who resembles an old frog, without showing his real emotions. In such situations, it's the mixture of awe and veiled encouragement that works the best, although he feels only disgust and no fear. "Mr Taylor, I thought we should have a social meeting, and I prepared myself for such," he says in a soft voice, lowering his gaze. "I don't have any proper effects to conclude such an agreement with me; I need my secretary. If you would like to send a message to my office that I request the presence of Soo-ling here, then we could deal with your offer at once and without any trouble." It's a good thing Sing always introduces himself to the outsiders with his surname only.

"I see we understand each other. Doing business with you is a real pleasure, Mr Lee," the guy replies, still smiling. "But I'd rather you call your secretary yourself. It will be faster, right? But I ask you to refrain from trying anything. One of my man speaks Chinese, he will know right away if you say something... ah, unnecessary."

The phone is put under his nose, so Yue-lung grabs the receiver and dials the direct number to his room. He's just become convinced that Taylor is a total moron and an amateur. He would outplay him with just one finger and his eyes closed, but leaving here without help is another thing. He glances at the clock: it's almost six. At this time, Sing is usually finished with his lessons and before his evening gym session, so he should be home, and the ringing in Yue-lung's bedroom will certainly make him pick up.

"Hello?" he hears the familiar voice.

"Soo-ling, listen to me without interrupting because it's important," Yue-lung says in a perfectly calm voice, acknowledging the risk that Taylor spoke the truth and one of his man really knows Cantonese. "I wish that you take all that's necessary and hurry here..." He gives the detailed address. "I must sign a deal of transferring the ownership of some areas of Chinatown. But wear a proper suit, of respect to my counterparty. I'm waiting for you, Soo-ling. You know what to do."

He hangs up, wondering distractedly if Sing will be mad at him for putting himself in danger. He looks at his opponent again, not that someone so pathetic deserves to be called that. Taylor seems pleased, especially that his man translates Yue-lung's words, confirming that nothing in the conversation indicated the factual state of things. Bunch of idiots. But how could they know about the Moon Dragon, once a secret weapon of the Lee clan...? They think they managed to seize a weak rich boy, a figurehead at the top of the organization.

"I think Soo-ling shall be here within fifteen minutes," he says softly, then lets his head fall back on the rest of the armchair. "I'm sorry... I don't feel well..." he gasps as if there's not enough air in the room and unbuttons his collar. "Could I lie down for a moment...?"

From under half-closed eyelids he sees that Taylor casts a startled look at his men - he clearly didn't expect that - then looks at him again and licks his lips. "O-of course, there's a sofa in the next room, and the window can be opened, too. If you only make it there..."

Yue-lung gets up, pretending to feel dizzy. He walks to the door in a swagger, then stumbles and leans on Taylor. It fills him with disgust - he doesn't want to touch anyone but Sing - but he must play. Taylor grabs him, which is even more disgusting, and helps him onto the sofa. Before he manages to move away, Yue-lung stretches his hands behind his head and whispers, "I think you could get more than just Chinatown from me," hoping that Taylor understands the suggestion properly.

Apparently, Taylor does, as he sends his men away and even has the door shut. A retard. When he leans over him again, Yue-lung sticks a needle in his neck - he always have them on him whenever going out, usually hidden in his hair-fastener - paralyzing his respiratory center and ending his life. He leaves the body by the edge of the sofa and stands next to the door.

It doesn't take more than just a few minutes when the knocking can be heard. "Mr Taylor... I don't want to disturb you, but Mr Soo Ling came to see Mr Lee."

Yue-lung opens the door and enters the room. "Mr Taylor is unwell," he says in a calm voice, looking only at Sing, who, in a suit and holding a suitcase, looks like a thoroughbred businessman... not exactly a secretary.

Soon, in the two rooms, there's no-one alive but the two of them, and everything was handled in an absolute silence. The bodyguards probably didn't even notice they were dying, but Yue-lung no longer thinks of them as Sing is already beside him, taking him in his arms and crushing in his embrace, and kissing violently. Yue-lung returns the kiss with all his might.

"Am I not too late? Are you all right?" Sing asks in a fervent whisper, having torn their mouths apart, and stares at his unbuttoned shirt. Then he glances over his shoulder at tha body still leaning over the edge of the sofa in the adjacent room. "He didn't do anything, right?"

"No chance," Yue-lung replies as silently. "I wouldn't have let it anyway. I wouldn't let anyone."

Sing kisses him again, as if wanting to make sure everything is fine with him, then pulls him close to his chest and touches his hair with his cheek. Yue-lung thinks he can hear his fast pulse. "I almost died of fear," Sing whispers. "You can't do such things to me."

"I knew you would come," Yue-lung replies. "I wouldn't let anyone kill me before that."

"I'll never let you go anywhere alone again."

"It's an overkill. Everything's okay..."

Sing embraces him even tighter, and Yue-lung takes delight in the sense of security Sing's arms give him. Even though he wasn't scared for a single moment - he was perfectly certain of both himself dealing with such a mediocre enemy and his one-man army coming to his help as soon as possible - now he feels he's come home.

"I want you, Sing," he says softly, brushing against his groins. "Now."

"Here?!" Sing asks in a mixture of panic and shock. "I didn't know you were aroused by danger..."

"There was no occasion for you to learn about it," Yue-lung mutters, clasping his neck.

"Wait until we're home," Sing asks. "A copter should be here any moment. There's at least ten men on this floor, and probably around twenty in the whole building..."

"Then we'll do it quiet."

Sing bites his lips to suppress his moan and, in the end, only nods.

"And then," Yue-lung adds, checking his laugh, "we'll do it in a heli as well."


	28. Chapter 28

As the time passes, Yue-lung finds out that leading the Syndicate starts to comes naturally to him. At one of the board meetings, he officially introduces Sing as his future right hand, despite knowing that the council members won't be thrilled by his plans in this regard, as they will have to accept yet another kid at the top of the organization. Yet, he can't imagine anyone else as his most trusted man, and not only because of Sing's undying loyalty.

The longer they are together, the more Yue-lung becomes aware of Sing's great intelligence and thirst for knowledge. Sing absorbs new information without any trouble and, on top of it, is pretty versatile: he's both good at science and social studies, while his language skills that he's pretty much improved over the last few years allow him to have substantive discussions and write neat essays. He graduates from the high school in just two years - just like Yue-lung did earlier - which gives him such a boost that he decides to continue his education. He begins studying political science at the university and soon takes a major in management, too.

The downside is that he spends much fewer time at home, but it's not like Yue-lung has nothing to do, either. Even if they no longer make sex like rabbits - that is, around the clock - their bond is still very strong and Yue-lung knows they are the most important ones for each other. And in those moments together, nothing can stop them from showing affection to each other, either in the most passionate or perfectly innocent manner. Like, Sing may sit down behind Yue-lung's back in the morning and comb his hair. After coming home, he often hugs him from behind to just hold in his arms without a word. When they go to the restaurant, he covers Yue-lung's hand with his own, stroking it gently with a thumb. And when he falls asleep while studying in the evening, Yue-lung puts a blanket over his shoulders, then rests his elbows on the desk and only looks at him.

He doesn't want to think how his life would have looked like if Sing Soo-ling hadn't appeared in it. Even if he isn't grateful to his fate for anything else, he is deeply grateful for Sing, who is an excessive compensation for all previous torture he experienced.

* * *

Once in a while, they manage to find time and break away from their duties, going somewhere to the far end of the world to be alone together. They usually rent a place under assumed names and forget about everything else, enjoying the holiday. In Hawaii, they put on the Bermuda shorts and flowery shirts, walk on the beaches and observe spectacular eruptions of Mauna Loa. In Okinawa, they wear kimono and snorkel, admiring the reefs and schools of fish in great number of colors. In Lapland, they cuddle up in the ice hotel and rave over the northern lights during perpetual night. Soo-ling loves it when Yue-lung takes off his suit and burden of responsibility and turns into an ordinary person, although he will never be ordinary to him. Far from home, where nobody knows them, they can walk the streets of the towns and cities, taste the local food and pretend to be the tourists like everybody else. Sometimes, when Yue-lung is in a particularly mischievous mood, he puts on a dress, pins up his hair or lets them loose and plays a woman. Despite the passing of time, he can still fool everybody with his beauty... and Soo-ling wonders if it should disturb him that he's happy to be able to walk holding hands with him, as if saying to the world, 'Look, it's my beloved.'

One March, when the spring is just starting in New York, they fly to Cancun, where they rent a house with pool and give in to their normal holiday routine. It's noon, and they are lying in the garden under the sun umbrellas, when suddenly the head that Soo-ling hoped to never see again appears over the high - but apparently not too high - fence.

"Have I come at a bad time?" Blanca asks, raising his straw hat.

Soo-ling stares at him with a frown, trying to understand what the former bodyguard is doing here. He turns to Yue-lung, but his lover doesn't even stir; he's sleeping on his sun lounger and breathing evenly. In the end, Soo-ling points at the garden door, and the guest enters the premises. Seeing him after such a long break, Soo-ling is once more surprised by the guy's enormous size... but no longer overwhelmed by it, like he was the first time they met. Now the height difference is probably some two or three inches.

"I can't believe you found us here," he grumbles, getting up.

Blanca raises his brows. "You didn't know of my visit?" he asks. "Young master invited me here."

Soo-ling suppresses a sigh. "I had no idea, he probably forgot to tell me... Well, you're here already."

Blanca smiles kindly and hands him a paper bag with a bottle sticking out of it and giving a delicious smell. "Some good wine and local specialties," he says. "It's good to see you again, Sing."

And Soo-ling realizes he could actually say the same. Long ago, Blanca crossed him pretty much, but the passage of time made his grudge grow weak or even vanish completely. Maybe growing both in body and soul - and becoming to Yue-lung somebody Blanca could never be - has something to do with it. He was jealous all right.

"Come onto the terrace," he invites the guest, hoping to find a proper set of wine glasses in the house.

Blanca, however, doesn't move from a spot; he's staring at Yue-lung, who is sleeping soundly. It's only after a moment that his eyes return to Soo-ling and he says with appreciation. "Good job. It's the first time I see him asleep, especially during the day."

Soo-ling averts his eyes, aware of the blush on his face. It wasn't even five minutes, and he already wishes he hadn't invited the guy. The two of them really can't spend time together. "We're adults," he mutters with reluctance. "What we do with each other shouldn't interest you."

Blanca gives him an astonished look and then shakes his head. He pulls up a chair. "Sing, I didn't mean _that,_ " he replies warmly and sits down. "Do you remember that some time ago he couldn't sleep when other people were around? He couldn't relax, always sensing danger. He couldn't trust he was safe. A few years ago he would have waked up the moment I appeared behind the fence."

Soo-ling looks at Yue-lung and catches himself thinking it was that way indeed.

"That's why I said, 'Good job'," Blanca continues. "Your merits for his psychological well-being cannot be overestimated. I'm glad you're with him... just like I asked you."

"I didn't do it for you...!" Soo-ling answers with exasperation. "Tell me, 'cause it always made me wonder: why are you so concerned about him though you don't even... like him?"

Blanca gives him a long thoughtful look. "You can't wish someone the best if you don't like them?" he asks in the end. "I thought _you_ , of all people, would be capable of it."

Soo-ling has no idea how to respond to it - doesn't know if he should see it as a compliment or accusation - so he withdraws inside the house to search for the dishes. That's true, he doesn't necessarily need to be fond of somebody; a basic respect for another human being is just enough. After all, there are things one wouldn't wish on their worst enemy. Still, he finds it hard to imagine he could care about somebody he dislikes. Probably.

"I think you only wanted to shift responsibility onto me," he says in the end, returning to the terrace with plates and glasses.

"Or I'm a big fan of you two," Blanca replies with a gentle smile, opening the wine bottle.

Soo-ling refrains from throwing the dishes on the table. He's under the impression that whatever he might say, he's never going to win with that weasel. However, he remains calm and takes out the food from the bag; it's still warm, having been wrapped in an aluminum foil.

"We have lunch!" he calls out, putting the dish - fish steamed with sauce - on the plates.

Yue-lung stretches on his sun lounger and then becomes still again. "I don't want any lunch," he replies in a sleepy voice.

"Fine, that makes more for me... and the guest," Soo-ling adds with less enthusiasm.

This information works at once. Yue-lung sits up and turns in their direction.

"Good morning, young master," Blanca says, waving at him.

"Blanca...!" Yue-lung calls in a surprise, then looks at Soo-ling reprovingly and smoothes out his hair. "Sing, why didn't you wake me? I wanted to groom myself!"

"Whyever should you groom yourself for _him?_ " Soo-ling says reluctantly. "Besides, we're on a holiday. It's time for relax, not stress."

"You don't understand me at all," Yue-lung says with resentment and gets up, adjusting his clothes.

"I sure don't," Soo-ling mutters in reply.

"There's no need to mind me," Blanca says. "As you can see, I'm not wearing any formal attire either," he adds, pointing at his pineapple-patterned shirt. "Please, join us before the food gets cold. I hope you'll find it tasty. Have you eaten tikin xic before? We have some wine, too."

Yue-lung hesitates a moment, but then he pulls up a chair and sits down by the table. However, after sweeping it with a glance, he begins to once more trash Soo-ling. "Why didn't you prepare anything?! I know you can't cook, but you could at least order something! And what are these glasses, haven't I taught you anything? This is white wine, not red! And why didn't you though of offering us water to drink?" Then he turns to Blanca with a cordial smile. "Thank you for your consideration. I can always count on you."

"You forgot to inform me that we would have a guest," Soo-ling says between his teeth, feeling as if he's going to boil. "The next time you complain to me just make sure there's a reason."

Yue-lung's expression is just priceless, and it makes his anger vanish. To tell the truth, Soo-ling has long since been unable to be mad with him. Blanca is clearly suppressing a giggle.

"In that case, I apologize," Yue-lung says in a serious voice, still staring at him. Soo-ling almost drops his fork; he didn't expect _that_ reaction. "I forgot indeed."

They stare at each other in silence for a moment, to be interrupted by Blanca discreetly clearing his throat in the end. "You should eat while it's still warm," the guy says.

Yue-lung lifts his glass. "First let's have a toast. To our reunion after years," he suggests.

"Is it some kind of class reunion?" Soo-ling asks under his breath, taking his own glass. "What next? We're going to talk about how our lives turned out and brag about our achievements?"

"Good idea," Yue-lung praises him and turns to Blanca again, "You first."

"I'm going to have my debut novel, 'The Caribbean Incident', published this week," Blanca says with a smile of embarrassment. "It took me three years to finish it. It's a psychological thriller."

"I've completed three semesters at the university... ah, a double major, by the way... I was also officially introduced into the board of the Lee Syndicate," Soo-ling mutters, wanting to be somewhere else.

"I picked up the hottest guy in NY. Well, actually, it's him who picked up me. And we've been happy together for years," Yue-lung announces merrily, and Soo-ling feels like banging his head on the table and, at the same time, embracing and kissing him. In the end, he doesn't do either.

"That sounds very good," Blanca says, still smiling. "My sincerest congratulations."

* * *

The moments of holiday are rare, but very satisfying... and needed. Soo-ling doesn't spare himself; he gives his best, combining the double major and work for the syndicate. He knows that Yue-lung has high expectations for him, and he doesn't want to disappoint him... especially that he knows himself he has it in him. Only sometimes he asks himself if it's really worth it, like that time when he fell asleep before sex for the first time, waiting for Yue-lung to return from the bathroom, or when he was forced to stay at the university because of the study project despite Yue-lung and him having the plans to go to the restaurant after a longer while.

Apparently, adult life contained such things as well. Still, he doesn't complain only clenches his teeth because he wants to disburden Yue-lung in leading the organization. Even if Yue-lung doesn't show it, after all those years Soo-ling can see him being fatigued and worried when he encounters some problems. Moreover, he's aware that many don't approve their bond - or, rather, their loyalty to each other - so he wants to distinguish himself and prove to everybody that he's more than just Yue-lung's bodyguard. He hopes that once he graduates and is able to dedicate himself fully to his work for the Lee Syndicate, then all doubts about his usefulness will vanish.

Over the years, his feelings for Yue-lung only intensify. It's no longer that crazy infatuation - when one wants to kiss the ground his beloved walks on and is ready to die for his single smile - only deep devotion and affection, and happiness to be together. Although, when he thinks about it, he comes to the conclusion that _nothing_ really changed. He still has that impression he was born only to meet Lee Yue-lung and give him his heart. Forever.

"I devoured your soul," Yue-lung says one day when Soo-ling shared that thought with him.

"I'd let myself be devoured by you thousand times more," Soo-ling replies, his face pressed to Yue-lung's neck.

Yue-lung smiles softly and keeps playing with his hair in a gentle manner. "I devoured your soul," he repeats. "Not only took your virginity and twisted you... You should get married and have children. I won't bear you any, even if I wanted to."

"You didn't twist me, so stop talking crazy," Soo-ling says, raising his head and looking at him with a frown. "Don't you worry about my children."

Yue-lung says no more, so they lie in silence for a longer while, relishing the intimacy. Soo-ling is trying not to think of what he's just heard; he knows that, if necessary, he can father even five kids, but he can't imagine their mother to ever be what Yue-lung is to him: half of that devoured soul.

And then Yue-lung, never stopping to stroke his head, speaks again, "Sing... I plan to entrust NY to you and return to Hong Kong," he says in a soft voice.

And Soo-ling is under the impression like he's falling in the abyss without air. He realizes how naive it was on his part to believe in 'forever'... and he thinks he can understand the pessimists for the first time in his life.

When one expects the worst, the reality can't possibly be so painful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you see "The Caribbean Incident" fanart? It's one of my favourite xD


	29. Chapter 29

Yue-lung's words make Soo-ling feel terribly cold. It's as if the last seven years and all following ones has been crossed out with a thick line. As if there were never any need for him to be here. As if all his effort and self-denial haven't mattered. He feels rejected like he had never before, not by Yue-lung anyway.

Bitterly, he realizes such things happen when one builds his life basing it on a single person. But is it anything wrong? After all, he let Yue-lung build his life basing on him - and he wanted it himself - and so he did the same thing, without even thinking of it, only enjoying that specific symbiosis between them. Why would Yue-lung want to end it now?

"You're bored of me? Sick of me? You don't need me anymore?"

"Sing, it's not that..."

"Then what?"

Yue-lung says nothing, and Soo-ling wonders if he's the most wretched man in the world, suspecting that what he's just asked about. Yet, he can't be angry, he's only sad. "You devoured my soul... How do you expect me to live with just a half of it?" he mutters.

"But I'm not going to release you," Yue-lung says and hugs him tight, as if trying to prove his words. "You are mine, and I am yours, no matter where we are. You know I wouldn't be here without you. I just... I just think I can finally walk on my own feet, without relying on you anymore. I can finally conquer the world."

"Then, the world is more important to you than I?" Soo-ling asks in a sulking voice.

"It will never be. But I want to prove my worth outside the bed, too."

It's an answer impossible to negotiate, and Soo-ling doesn't intend to. He knows that men are driven by their ambitions... and he momentarily regrets Yue-lung not being a woman, after all. Maybe, if he were, Soo-ling would be able to change something, saying, 'Stay with me.'

"I plan to make a dent in the wealth of the organization," he says after a moment of intense thinking. "Plane tickets to Hong Kong are going to coast you dearly."

"Don't be foolish, I'm buying you a private jet," Yue-lung replies at once.

Soo-ling feels the corner of his lips twitch. "Well, I can do a lot of work during the flight. That time won't go to waste."

"I'd rather you sleep," Yue-lung announces in a complaining manner, but hidden laugh can be heard in his voice as well. "Because after your arrival I certainly won't let you sleep."

* * *

Some months later, Yue-lung's transfer to Hong Kong becomes a fact. By then, Soo-ling deliberately reduces the pace of his studies - even at the price of delaying his graduation - to spend as much time as possible with him. He attends all board meetings as well as the conferences where the details of both Yue-lung's move and his life in Hong Kong are being arranged. He puts the greatest emphasis on the safety matters; in New York, he's been the unofficial yet actual head of security for Yue-lung. Of course, Yue-lung is taking some of his men with him, but many are recruited in Hong Kong among the families and organizations that pledged loyalty to the Lee clan. As per Soo-ling's request, the candidates for people responsible for the protection of the head of the syndicate come to US; Soo-ling wants to meet them and make sure he can trust them. When it's the welfare of his most important person in question, no negligence is allowed. Some are disqualified and delegated to different jobs; most of them, however, meet his requirements, and he's particularly pleased with the head of security in Hong Kong.

The thought of not being able to protect Yue-lung anymore fills him with terror that he tries not to show. It seems he's already got used to the thought of not living with him anymore, but the thought of _something happening to him_ \- halfway across the world, where Soo-ling can't get quickly to save him - makes him suffocate. Yue-lung's life is the highest value; he would give everything to guarantee it.

Yet, at nights, as he's lying in his arms, he wonders if he's going to survive himself. "If I remained a stupid kid from the street who has no other value, you would just take me along as your toy boy, without even asking," he mutters one day.

"Do you have no shame?" Soo-ling can pretty much imagine Yue-lung rolling his eyes.

"I don't," he replies truthfully. "Not when I'm with you anyway."

"Sing Soo-ling, you must learn to live without me by your side. I'm not your wife."

"Then, no chance that my dream of our wedding under the palm trees is ever fulfilled, after all...?"

"Why the palm trees?" Yue-lung asks with curiosity.

"The tropics just fit. You would look nice in a grass skirt and orchids in your hair."

"I bet a typhoon would come and ruin the wedding... But if it's under the palms, then Blanca must be there."

"Him? What part is there for him?"

"Maybe the bride's father...?"

Soo-ling smiles but can't shake off he feeling of loss. Maybe it's only now, when Yue-lung finally got used to the jokes about their marriage, he realizes they really have been just jokes. He has only one thing left: that promise, 'You're going to be my last'.

* * *

Life when being separated by half of the globe and twelve hours of time difference is worse Soo-ling could ever suspect. Not only he doesn't have Yue-lung by his side, but it's pretty difficult to even find a proper time to talk on the phone. Seven o'clock must do; in Hong Kong it's already evening and Yue-lung has most of his work done by then, while in New York the day is just beginning and Soo-ling hasn't left for the university yet... and the opposite. That way they can at least wish each other good day and good night. And have a perfectly normal phone sex, that provides only makeshift satisfaction and makes the longing even stronger.

After one week, Soo-ling is of the opinion he won't stand it anymore. He will quit college, quit syndicate, quit America and fly to Hong Kong to beg Yue-lung to make him his sex toy. Only the words, 'Don't you have any shame?' stop him from doing so.

After two weeks, he starts to get used to the new routine in life. He concentrates on studying to make up for the lost time. He's planning to apply for MBA in Harvard. He does his best in his work for the organization and his own company. It's the only way to make sure he doesn't spend every second thinking of how much he wishes to be with Yue-lung now.

After three weeks, he comes to the conclusion that maybe he should look for a girl indeed, like he's been suggested. The things is that, whenever he has some free time, he can see in his mind a figure that is undoubtedly _male_ , regardless of being slightly-built and delicate, having fabulously beautiful face, splendid hair and graceful manners. He's under the impression he's going to fall to pieces because of the urge to take Yue-lung in his arms and caress every part of his perfect body.

After a month, he boards a plane - Yue-lung really bought him a jet - and flies to the other side of the world. Almost twenty hours of flight, despite phone calls, go on forever, especially that he can't focus on work or even sleep. He's thinking only of seeing Yue-lung again after what seems the eternity - and he's scared that everything between them has already changed beyond repair. Like in a trance, he imagines the moment he will be able to touch him, feel his smell, see his smile - and he fears to meet somebody entirely new and different in Hong Kong. In the last seven years, the two of them wouldn't part for longer than a week.

Maybe Yue-lung was right, speaking that Soo-ling should learn to live without him. When he's back in New York, he may give it a thought. Given that he's forced to go back.

When the plane finally lands and a limousine takes him to the headquarters of the Lee Syndicate, Soo-ling is nervous like never before. He's trembling all over: of anticipation, fear, desire, uncertainty. He's like a drug addict going through withdrawal, who can think only of relieving his symptoms. He pays no attention to his guides, the men who receive him at the airport and escort to the door at the top floor of the skyscraper. Afterwards, he won't be able to recall their faces or voices, or his own answers. His perception is narrowed to a single object.

When he enters the office and sees Yue-lung standing in front of the desk, his agitation doesn't lessen a bit. He spares one second to look at him. Yue-lung is wearing gray trousers and white shirt, his hair is simply tied at the nape of his neck, and his face is like alabaster. He seems just like always.

"Welcome to Hong Kong," he says with a light smile. "You must be tired. I prepared a-"

Soo-ling crosses the room in just a few steps and is already by his side, and grabs his face to turn it toward him and kiss like he's trying to devour him, pushing him against the desk. Without tearing their mouths apart, he moves his hands on Yue-lung's neck, his shoulders, his back, his hips, his buttocks, as if he wants to make sure the two of them are really here and together again. Yue-lung embraces him, touches his back, but Soo-ling can't have it or he'll die; it's as if the situation from their first time got reversed. Panting and moaning in Yue-lung's mouth, he reaches to his collar and unbutton it, only to impatiently tug at the fabric and tear the shirt to shreds the next moment. He touches the warm, smooth skin, moving his hands up and down Yue-lung's back, from his shoulder blades through his ribs all the way to the sacrum, slipping his fingers under the edge of his trousers, then unbuttons it, determined to tear it down with the underwear. In the meantime, Yue-lung unbuckles his belt, but touch of his hands is too much and too little at the same time, and Soo-ling knows he wants him more and closer, here, now, this very moment...

He pulls away from the kiss, gasping for air. He withdraws his hands, touching Yue-lung's shoulders again, rests his forehead against his and tries to calm his breath. His heart is pounding in his chest. "Sorry..." he whispers with his eyes shut. "I almost raped you..."

"You didn't," Yue-lung whispers back, with ardor. "I want it. I want you inside me, Sing... so don't let me wait any longer. Please."

Soo-ling gives a stifled cry, as if that permission, that encouragement, that request blew up his last effort to stop his madness. He kisses him again, sinking in that wonderful mouth, then moves his lips onto his neck, his clavicles, his chest, relieving him of his lower garment and making him sit atop the desk. Yue-lung has already managed to remove his shoes and is now pulling Soo-ling's trousers and boxers down his hips; Soo-ling feels dizzy when the fabric rubs against his cock. He has to support himself on the edge of desk and close his eyes for a moment as he feels he's going to collapse; he must regain control over himself. A warm breath blows against his cheek, so he turns his head to search for that moist mouth, and they kiss again, and this time it's a bit more gentle, unlike that storm of lust from before.

Not for long anyway, as Yue-lung, maybe to rush him, puts his hands on Soo-ling's chest and touches his nipples, sending sparks down his spine. Soo-ling grabs him - he's delighted by the curve of Yue-lung's back and the fact he can wrap his hands around his lover's waist and his fingers would almost touch - and then moves his hands onto his hips and tights. Yue-lung spreads his legs in an inviting manner, and Soo-ling must pull himself away and gasp for air as he feels he's going to suffocate. Yue-lung grabs his hands and puts them on his hips again, but Soo-ling remembers, in his remaining reason, that before that... They don't have any lubricant, so saliva must do. Touching himself when he's hard like this is risky, but he accepts the risk because he doesn't want to inflict pain that can be avoided.

Yue-lung utters an exasperated whimper, but it is when Soo-ling grabs his hips and lifts him, and enters him, and finally feels he's where he should be. Yue-lung puts his arms around his head and entwines his legs around his waist, and Soo-ling buries his face at the angle of his lover's neck, trying to remember about breathing. He savors this sense of perfect unity and wonders how he's survived the last month. He turns them around, leaning his back on the desk, as he fears his legs will stop bearing him. He's unable to contain his desire and starts to move inside Yue-lung. He clenches his teeth to not make any noise, to stifle that moan-cry-song trying to get out of him until the ecstasy comes and everything disappears.

When he opens his eyes, he's lying atop the desk with Yue-lung lying atop of him. "I can't believe I did it," he groans with embarrassment, staring at the ceiling over him.

"You fainted," Yue-lung confirms and appears to be quite amused. "Was it worth it?"

Soo-ling can still feel the pleasure from a moment ago. "It was," he replies with confidence and looks at him again. "You alright?"

"Sure. You collapsed on the desk and I fell on you."

Soo-ling moves him to the side and sits up. A moment of lying flat brought the blood back to his head, so he no longer feels dizzy. He looks at Yue-lung, who is kneeling down by him on the desk, covered with his hair he must have loosened at some point or the fastener broke. His face is flushed, his eyes are glistening, and his breathing is quick. A glance at his lower parts reveals he has yet to reach climax.

"I'm hopeless," Soo-ling decides and strokes him on his cheek before getting up and removing his trousers. "Sit here," he says, pulling him onto the edge of the desk.

When Yue-lung lets his legs down, Soo-ling gives him a long and passionate kiss, taking the torn shirt off him. Then he moves his lips to his lover's neck, his chest, his stomach, marking the whole way with his tongue, until he reaches the part that he means to devote the most time and attention to. He kneels down in front of Yue-lung, grabs his hips and takes his cock into his mouth, recognizing the familiar taste. Yue-lung gasps for air, and Soo-ling can visualize his head tossed backwards, eyes closed and lips parted... and that image makes him aroused again, but now Yue-lung has an absolute priority.

He's not hurrying; he knows that his lover takes time to start burning and reaches ecstasy as slowly, so he always adjusts himself to his pace. Actually, the longer he's able to give pleasure to Yue-lung, the better; in all these years, he's pretty much mastered his 'tongue skills'. Finally, the twitching of muscles he can sense under his hands, fingers curling convulsively in his hair and quickening breath tells him Yue-lung is close to orgasm. He doesn't let him for a single moment - not from his hands nor his mouth - takes him whole and only regrets that he can't hear his voice. Yue-lung always comes in a perfect silence.

He gets up and embraces him. Yue-lung rests his head on his shoulder and tries to calm his breath. He seems so frail in his arms that Soo-ling's heart overflows with affection. "I missed you," he whispers in his hair. "You can't even imagine how much."

"If half as much as I, then I can imagine it pretty well," he hears the answer that fills him with happiness because there's only confidence and no hesitation to it. "My Soo-ling."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to post the final chapter on Sunday.


	30. Chapter 30

Life in Hong Kong is much more challenging than in New York; it is only here that Yue-lung can fully understand what it means to be the head of the Lee family. In America, he was just a mafia boss, one of the many; here, he's a descendant of the last imperial house of China, bearing the centuries of tradition on his shoulders. In 'Land of the Free' hardly anyone looked at him; here, he's always in the spotlight. Despite that, he doesn't miss US, because Hong Kong is his homeland; he accepts his responsibility and acts in a manner that can't be criticized even by the most demanding elders. He lives in a house that is actually a palace, dresses in exquisite clothes and has an army of servants and stylists at his command; all that to perfect the image of deity that people, both allies and enemies, want to consider him as. Only sometimes he recalls those years he spent with Sing in his Manhattan residence, believing he was just a human.

Sing visits him regularly; he comes at least once per month to spend a week with him. They enjoy passionate nights together; the days are filled with work, but they sometimes manage to find some time for each other in their tight schedules, just to be alone. In those moments, Yue-lung can laugh and joke, which he doesn't do normally as there's no company for that. He can absorb touch and bask in the glow of love. This energy is enough for him to radiate his own, like the moon reflecting the sunlight.

At times, he asks himself why he decided to separate Sing and himself with half of the globe and twelve hours. He always comes to the conclusion that love was never his goal, only a road. Just like hatred before, love could sustain him for over a decade. Without them, he wouldn't have got anywhere. This is why he also thinks that Sing has much more to achieve than just Lee Yue-lung. He doesn't believe they could be happy just being together; he's certain that, sooner or later, they would feel that something is missing, some content, some sense... and maybe they would even come to hate each other in the end. So he prefers the current state of things, when they meet from time to time and he is proved that Sing desired him and missed him from the moment they saw each other previously, a few weeks ago.

Although they've been with each other over ten years now, Sing's unconditional devotion and faithfulness don't cease to amaze him. Even though Sing has multiple academic degrees, is a capable leader of the Chinese mafia in US, owns several perfectly legal companies and enjoys popularity that would let him run for president or court any woman, when they are just the two of them he's reverted to that boy who, at the age of sixteen, confessed to Yue-lung and declared he would never leave his side. He's still in love as he was then, and still treats Yue-lung like the greatest value. At some point, Yue-lung used to resume the topic of his marriage but had to give up after a few years, as Sing always addressed the matter negatively. Probably, Yue-lung could _force_ him into getting married, but he wouldn't dare, not only because of his respect for Sing - whom he's never wanted to command and always considered more a partner than a subordinate - but also because of his own reluctance. It's one thing to say 'you should' and quite another to actually further it. Maybe it's the high time to accept that for Sing the promise 'I'll stay with you' is like the marriage vows. Sing Soo-ling is apparently a man who can love just once in his life.

Like himself...?

* * *

Then finally comes the day when Yue-lung has a diner in a restaurant and masked, armed man storm the place. When the guns are pointed at him, Yue-lung only wipes his mouth with a napkin and rises. He looks at the attackers - the Vietnamese, who then start to enumerate all possible charges as reasoning behind their actions - but he can't really see them. People say that your entire life flashes in front of you the moment before you die, but his thought runs straight to the future, with the only emotion filling him being fear for Sing. He hopes that Sing won't put himself in any dangerous situation, seeking revenge... and then realizes it's impossible because such is Sing's love that will make him move heaven and earth, run to the end of the world and bring destruction to those who dared to raise their hands on the sense of his life, until everyone was punished, ground to dust and no guilty man is left alive.

He smiles. "You are all dead," he says with perfect calm and complete confidence, and they can't understand it and maybe never will.

He's not scared of dying, as he never was, but he hasn't thought of it nor desired it for years. Now he doesn't want to die either - he knows how much joy and good times he would still have with Sing - but the situation is hopeless. The attackers chose the time perfectly, when Sing has just left for US... ah, it doesn't matter. He has no regrets, not even about dying when still only thirty, because he's been given much more he's ever deserved: twelve years of pure happiness. He's been given so much that it can warm him even now, during the final end, and makes him smile.

He closes his eyes, for he doesn't want to spend his last moments looking at those people. In his mind, a face appears; it's always there, all he needs is to shut his eyelids to see it. Face with sharp features and shapely nose, sensuous lips and alert, bright eyes under the arched brows. Perfect face that Yue-lung sometimes outlined with his finger to remember it also with his touch. Beautiful face that lit up with unusual warmth whenever their eyes met. Composed face that Yue-lung - and only him - could coat with an immense bliss. Dear face, so _dear_...!

He wishes he could see him once more. Tell him everything he hasn't managed to say in these twelve years... apologize and, above all, thank him. Then he would grab him and pull down, and kiss, and forget all this sentimental rubbish; ah, that's what he excelled in anyway, and now he feels like giggling at the very thought. Sing would hug him tight, almost crushing him in his arms, but would never hurt him, always treating him like the most precious work of art. They would make love until the dawn, forgetting all about the world. When they were together, they didn't need the world. Ah, he wishes he could see him once more...

Before the very end, a thought occurs to him, 'I wish we got married in Hawaii, after all.'

* * *

Everything was so sudden that Soo-ling can't believe that. One day Yue-lung was still there - present in his life just like every day for the previous dozen of years - and the next day he receives a phone call informing of his assassination. It's not something to believe just like that, so he boards the plane and flies to Hong Kong, still in that state of shock and detachment from reality. And when he stands over him and stares at his face - dear face - he's still under the impression it's somebody else, somebody who only looks like Yue-lung, for Yue-lung would never let anybody put him into a casket, and he certainly wouldn't sleep quietly with all those people around.

Then he flees from that sight, pushing it out of his memory, and concentrates on action. He finds out who raised their hands on the leader of the Chinese underworld, and raids an attack. He kills without mercy, leaving no survivors. He destroys the Vietnamese mafia in a single night, like he did years ago in New York. They didn't expect him, and it was the last thing they didn't expect. Yet, when he stands alone on the battle-field, he doesn't feel any better.

Then he returns to that terrifying palace of death to keep staring at lifeless face of the man who was more than a lover to him - was half of his soul - and when he no longer can stand, he sits down on the platform with his back touching the casket and tries to think what to do with his life. He sits there for hours, even more certain that empty spot inside him will never heal, never be filled. He pays no attention to people trying to persuade him into getting up and taking care of himself. He finds it utterly pointless to do anything.

"Excellency, His Highness wished that you received this," a gentle, respectful voice breaks into his stupor, and the words make him raise his head.

For a second, he tries to focus his sight on a man in traditional clothes - it's Cheung, Yue-lung's secretary - who, bent forward in a humble pose, is offering him a letter.

"His Highness wished that you get this letter if the worst should happen," the man says, and Soo-ling is still looking at the envelope.

"He... foresaw his death...?" he asks in a hoarse voice, raising his arm.

"No, Excellency. His Highness wrote such a letter every year. In January, he would always hand it to me with orders to make sure that you would receive it, and destroy the previous one."

Soo-ling takes the envelope and inspects it. _To Soo-ling_ is written on the one side, and there's Yue-lung's stamp on the other.

"If I may say something... His Highness must have considered it extremely important that you read this, Excellency."

"You may leave."

Cheung bows to him and goes away without saying any more. Soo-ling gets up - after hours of sitting in one position his muscles are numb - and approaches the window. He opens the envelope with his trembling fingers and unfolds the paper inside, but the first line makes him lean on the frame when the surge of emotions almost knocks him off his feet. He lowers his arms and lifts his face toward the ceiling. He closes his eyes and clenches his teeth to contain himself. It's only after a while that he's able to look at the paper again, although the characters still seem blurred.

_My Soo-ling,_

_If you're reading this letter, it must mean that I'm no longer alive in your world. I hope I looked good in the casket. Recently, you asked me if I promised my soul to the demons in exchange for eternal youth and beauty. No, I didn't, I just pay well my beauticians and stylists, and it's only to always look good for you._

_Sorry for this. I just can't be serious when I try to imagine my own death. However, I realize that you must find the situation difficult. Only the thought of how you must feel lets me write down these words._

_I don't want you to blame yourself for that you didn't manage to save me this time. You saved me many, many times before, and not only physically. If not for you, I probably wouldn't have lived to see my eighteenth birthday, and now I managed to turn thirty last year. Do you remember that it will be thirteen years since that day when you slapped me and told me to live, and promised to help me? You've never broken your promise. I hope that thirteenth years won't bring any bad luck, only adds to out happiness._

_Sing Soo-ling, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, even though I didn't do anything to deserve it, nor could I repay you. I'm a dragon that rules over darkness, one to only swallow and devour everything. I have no heart to 'love', and that's why I never could answer your feelings. But you gave me half of your soul, and it helped me to feel your warmth and share your joy. Thank you, Sing - My Soo-ling - for staying with me all these years and keeping me warm with your love. You saved me from eternal darkness and destruction, made me want to live again and like myself, just a bit. I regret not a single moment of these thirteen years of our life together. And I think that, if I really happen to die this year, I'm going to meet my death with peace, although I don't even think of dying with so many good times still ahead for us._

_Yet, you're reading this letter, and it means that I didn't make it to see the end of this year, so now comes the most important part: I don't want you to grieve for me or turn away from your life. You should be happy, and you still have much to give. You're like the sun shining on everyone and driving away even the deepest darkness. You're able to move people and win their love because you can love, yourself. Even if you were my last, I was only your first. So, Sing, I ask that you find your happiness, real happiness with someone who will be able to answer your feelings, someone who will be the sun just like you, not merely the moon to reflect your light. (Since I'm dead already, I can't be jealous, although I never wanted to share you with anyone)._

_Ah, this letter's mood is getting light again, so I should finish. If you're reading it within three days since my death, remember that my spirit should still be there. I don't want to see you despairing, so try to smile, just for me, just for a moment, to light my path to the other side. Unless you've managed to smile when reading this; in that case, all these silly things I've written here had some purpose._

_I don't want to say goodbye, and I hope that, no matter where and with whom you are, you will never forget me. Maybe we'll be able to meet again in another life._

_Yue-lung, only Yours_

_Hong Kong, 10th of January 2000_

Soo-ling becomes aware that the tears are dropping from his eyes, but he's smiling indeed. His chest clenches with terrible pain, but there's some sweetness in it, too. He squats and puts the letter on the floor. He presses his fists to his forehead and stays like this for a longer while, trying to pull himself together after he's just been torn to pieces. For three days, he's been petrified with grief, but now he can finally feel more, feel that warmth described in the letter that seems to be filling every cell in his body. He opens his eyes and takes the letter again in his hands to read it over and over until he memorizes it and will never forget those words.

Then he gets up and returns to the platform to look once more, maybe the last time, at Yue-lung's face. "You sure look good," he says. "You'd like it. Actually, I prefer that it's because of your beautician and stylists, not the demons. Get some rest there, on the other side... and maybe one day come back here indeed. But you know what? I do blame myself that I couldn't save you this time... that you had to go already. It's not fair. No matter how much happiness they got, nobody should die so early. I wanted you to live longer... much longer... So what dragon are you? Dragons live forever."

His throat clenches, making him unable to utter another word, so he only stands and looks at Yue-lung, with the last message still ringing in his head.

"What dragon are you?" he repeats once he can speak again. "You're a fool and a retard. You wrote me this love letter and you claim you can't love? That you can only swallow and devour? There are limits to having a biased view of self, you know. You're just a man, I guarantee it. You're a man from the top of your head to your little toe. I got to know your body perfectly, its every part. You're a man, I could see your laugh and your tears, your anger and affection. You're full of yourself and unselfish. You're cruel and kind. You're cold and passionate. You're lonely, distrustful... and honest. You're a man, one hundred percent. You're not worse than any other human... and much better than many..."

He must stop again and shut his eyes tight, as new tears are coming and his lips start to tremble. It takes him a while to keep from crying.

"You're much better than many, and were the best for me. I'm going to miss you like hell... especially at nights, especially in the dark. The sun shines only by day; at nights, only the moon can give light. And reflected light becomes one's own... The moon is the most beautiful thing night can offer, while the sun... You can't even look at it." He frowns. "Actually, I think you went blind, staring at me. This letter of yours... You wrote much more rubbish you probably thought you did."

He leans over him to kiss his cold lips and reach to touch his cheek.

"I'll go and look for my happiness, like you wished, but you may be sure I'm never going to forget you. You're a part of me, you are My Yue-lung. Perhaps I'll find my sun, but I certainly won't see the moon on my sky again. So... let's come back to each other one day. So that I can tell you what I've already told you many times... and you can tell me what you've never managed to say. Now I'm finished with this poetry and..." He wipes his eyes and smiles, "See you again."

Farewell is easier to bear when you believe in reunion.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry :(((
> 
> If you want to blame anyone it's Yoshida for having killed Yue off-panel in her next manga, "Yasha", but I admit I'm equally guilty for having agreed to her version instead of creating some AU :( Writing this chapter was very difficult for me, because normally I always write only happy endings; however, this time I really didn't want to write any AU, and Yue being killed in the end was the plan from the very start :( I cried for the rest of the evening after writing this, believe me...
> 
> This ending is still AU, after all, as it doesn't contain Akira or Eiji. I certainly don't like how the "Garden of Light" showed us Sing being all over Eiji, so #noEiji here. As for Akira, she is cute and admirable, and I like her very much, but as I read Yasha and realised that Yue died some half a year after Sing's marriage, it was just too much for me. So #noAkira here either.
> 
> However, if you don't hate me for what I did yet and are willing to read more from me, then I tell you that I'm going to write an AU indeed. I promised it to my friend already, but now, after finishing this one, I find it even more important. I just need to write "and they lived happily ever after" kind of story. I'm going to have it done at some point of this autumn, and it's going to be cheerful and totally crazy :D So, stay tuned!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and commenting "A Man Among Dragons"! I've received so many splendid and heart-warming comments already, but I'm greedy and will welcome more with love. Really, THANK YOU!


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